Worth Fighting For
by Eleri McCleod
Summary: Crossover with Stargate SG1. When Faith wakes up missing three years of her life, all she seems to find are more questions. Can the answers lie with a man she only remembers meeting once before? FaithJack. Adult situations and themes.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Worth Fighting For

AUTHOR: Eleri McCleod

CATEGORY: Challenge response, drama, romance, angst

PAIRINGS: Faith/Jack

SPOILERS: BtVS Chosen; SG-1 Fragile Balance

SEASON: BtVS: Post Chosen; SG-1: 8

CONTENT LEVEL: FR15, T, 13+, take your pick

CONTENT WARNINGS: little bit of language

SUMMARY: When Faith wakes up missing three years of her life, all she seems to find are more questions. Can the answers lie with a man she only remembers meeting once before?

DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vamipre Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy . Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. I'm just borrowing them for a little while and will return them unharmed. No copyright infringement is intended.

ARCHIVE: TtH, Jackfic, Gateworld, any others please ask

AUTHORS' NOTES: While reading through the Challenge pages on Twisting the Hellmouth, this idea grabbed ahold and wouldn't let go. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

CONTINUITY NOTE: I've fiddled with the timeline just a little so don't bother trying to add up the years. It'll all make sense, I promise.

CHALLENGE BASIC DETAILS: Challenge 1737: Waking Up to The Married Life

A Scoobie wakes up one morning next to a complete stranger. A stranger that he/she has supposedly been married to for the past two years. Pictures, a home, and the rest of the scoobies all point to a reality that he/she cannot remember, but is obviously true.

The Scoobie has to learn to get along with his/her new spouse and perhaps even remember the forgotten feelings of love. And what if she wakes up to find out it's all a dream? Or slayer prophecy?

* * *

Part 1

* * *

She woke instantly. 

There was no gentle slide from slumber to consciousness, just one moment suddenly awake. Her eyes opened, all senses flared wide. Nothing. No demons of any kind in the immediate vicinity. She flung the sheet and blanket off, surprised to see she wore an oversized t-shirt and a pair of men's boxers. Were these hers? She sure didn't recognize them if they were. Standing, she took a look around the room.

Welcoming. That was her first thought. The second was comforting. A frown covered her face at the uncharacteristic descriptions. Home, her brain added to the confusing list.

"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, heading for the door. She didn't have a home, not really. How would she know what a home was supposed to feel like? Bypassing the bathroom without a glance, she ignored the impulse to peek in the closet for a smidge of information on where the hell she was. She'd woken up plenty of times in a strange bed, usually after a night of mutually beneficial sex. But she'd never woken up with absolutely no idea of the night before's events or how she'd gotten into said bed.

A quiet clatter from somewhere in the house – or was it an apartment? – alerted her to another occupant. She sidled out the door and down the hall on silent feet. Framed pictures she didn't take the time to look at hung on the walls to either side. Stopping at the end of the hall just before the entryway, she scanned the large room sprawling out in front of her. A fireplace dominated one wall and comfortable looking furniture was scattered around the room while more photos and nick-nacks turned it into a place people lived.

Getting a little sappy in your old age, aren't you? Shaking her head at the thought, she focused once again on gathering what information she could from her senses. Footsteps sounded to her left, around the corner, bare feet on tile. She sank back into the wall, breathing shallowly. Whoever it was didn't know she was awake. Uneasiness curled into her gut, not a feeling she was accustomed to.

A man rounded the corner, making the sharp turn with the ease of familiarity. His appearance was so not what she was expecting, she must have made some involuntary movement because the man moved before it registered in her brain.

Yanked away from the wall, she found an arm around her throat, one hand pressed against the back of her head, closing her windpipe. Before she'd even tensed her muscles to throw him off, he released her with a heartfelt curse. The sudden changes had her frowning as she looked up to meet brown eyes. Damn, he was fast. Much faster than she usually attributed to a full human. At least as far as she could tell he was human. Except he was almost Slayer fast.

"God, baby, are you okay?"

His voice was shaking and filled with so much concern, her stomach actually clenched as she held his gaze. Whoever this guy thought she was happened to be one lucky lady. Too stunned to react – which was saying a lot for her - she didn't bat away the hands gently lifting her chin to stroke the neck he'd just had in a very competent choke hold.

"Why didn't you let me know you were awake?" the man continued in a tone as unsteady as his hands. "You know not to sneak up on me like that."

The man was freaked out he might have hurt her. She barely restrained a snort. Him hurt her? Yeah, right. His fingers were gentle but something in them sent shivers of awareness through her entire body. Shifting her focus from what he was doing to what he looked like, she frowned again.

She knew him.

Well, not really. But she recognized him. She hadn't seen him in years. Six years, to be more precise. A single night stopover in Colorado Springs during a hellish week of panicked flight from Boston. A bar to find a little forgetfulness. A soft rejection followed by her one not awful memory of those horrid days. A dinner full of quiet talking and even quieter understanding.

He was older, but not changed for the worse for all the added years. His hair was fully grey now and a few more lines had been added to the face. His voice was only slightly different, a lighter tone in it than all those years ago, as if some great big hurt inside him had been healed. However the eyes were the same: deep brown and could still look straight into the middle of her soul.

He was still muttering softly under his breath, concentration on her skin. The clenching in her gut grew with every word. He had no reason to be so concerned. Reaching up, she grasped his wrists, pulling his hands from her neck. "I'm five by five. Really."

He literally froze. She almost took a step back at the blank mask that covered his face, her hands still gripping his wrists. She'd never seen someone's face change that fast. Then she reminded herself she was a Slayer and he couldn't hurt her. Not physically anyway.

"Faith?"

The voice had hardened, turning flat, uncompromising. Gone was the gentle caring that shivered over her skin. In its place was suspicion underlaced with something she wanted to call fear. He was still staring down at her, obviously waiting for an answer. She had no idea what he was expecting her to say, so she answered with the first thing that came into her brain.

"Yeah, I'm Faith. You're Jack. And you want to explain what I'm doing here?"

He blanched, the mask disappearing as fast as it appeared as his face went white as his t-shirt. "That's not funny."

"Not much with the laughing here." Dropping his wrists, she turned away from the look on his face and walked down two short steps into the large room she'd examined just a minute ago. "Want to explain what we did last night to make me not remember it? At least tell me I had a good time."

She prowled around the room, glancing back to see him sink down onto the steps at his feet. His eyes followed her every movement, sending a shiver running along her spine. What was it between them? Jack had struck a nerve with her in the bar that night, which was why she'd come onto him. The fact he was quite a bit older than her hadn't put a dent in her thoughts. Something about him had just called out to her. But he'd turned her down in a way that hadn't offended her. It had, in truth, made her feel more cared for than at any other time in her short life. His hands, voice and look just moments ago had all but screamed a familiarity she should have remembered. Yet again, what the hell was going on?

Jack still hadn't answered her, seemingly too stunned to do more than sit and stare at her pacing. About to ask one last time before heading for the door and out of there, her eyes were caught by a picture prominently on display above the mantle. Her pacing halted in mid-step, eyes seeing but brain unable to process the information.

It was a close up shot. The woman, her dark brown hair swept up in an elegant looking knot with artfully draped locks framing her face. The man, holding the woman's right hand in his placing a soft kiss on the knuckles. Both of them looking directly into the other's eyes from scant inches apart, expressions filled with joy, confidence and love.

Somehow Faith tore her eyes away from the sight only to find herself confronted with more pictures surrounding the first. This one of the couple in full length, smiles still firmly in place. That one of them dancing, cuddled close together. And yet another, obviously a candid shot, of them parting from a kiss, eyes once again locked together.

It took three tries to get the words to form. "We're married?"

"Yeah. Two years last week."

His voice was carefully bland as if he knew she was about to split. She was married? To Jack? What the hell was going on and why couldn't she remember any of it? Wanting to see what was on his face but too confused to handle it, Faith looked down at her left hand instead. A wedding set circled her ring finger, the stones glittering with inner fire. A simple platinum setting held a diamond so big she nearly choked. Small, blood red rubies sat offset to either side in what should have been a study in how to not make a ring, yet was somehow the perfect showcase for the beautiful center stone. The band was alternating diamond and rubies, simple, elegant and, again, perfect.

Faith couldn't pull her eyes from the rings, her vision becoming unfocused. It was perfect. The few times she'd ever let herself waste time on what her future husband – and wasn't that worth a laugh and a half – would get for her, she'd pictured what was now sitting on her hand.

"I always thought you had too much passion for diamonds alone."

She whirled around, heart suddenly pumping furiously. How the hell had he gotten that close without her hearing him? He was human, wasn't he? "What year is it?"

The question slapped the returning warmth off his face. "2005. You going to tell me what's going on?"

2005? Three years? She was missing three years? She must have gone as pale as she felt because Jack was suddenly guiding her to sit on the couch, one hand under her elbow. Some really twisted things had happened to her over the years, but this was the first time she'd ever heard of being transported into the future. The world took on a surreal overlay, her eyes jumping from one random thing to the next until they were drawn back to the pictures of her wedding day. If she could have found the breath to do it, she'd have been laughing hysterically at the moment. There was no question in her mind about that. But the world was spinning crazily as she continued to stare up at the evidence of her future self's happiness.

"Faith?"

She heard him from a distance, could feel the warmth of his hands on her arm. Struggling to pull herself together – she was the Slayer, damn it, she'd been through worse than this, hadn't she? – she focused on one tiny fact from the photos and used it to try to bring her back to reality. "You're military?"

"Air Force." Jack's hand never left her arm, the pressure an anchor she grasped.

"Military." For some reason that simple fact snapped everything into focus. There was no way her subconscious would have come up with that one. She met his eyes, the dark brown filled with concern and not a little uneasiness. "So, not bad for my first panic attack." Even to her own ears it sounded forced.

A smile twitched at his lips before the serious expression returned. At least he hadn't gone back to that blank mask. "I'm afraid it's not over yet."

"What does that mean?" Faith leaned away from him, muscles tensing to fight, to flee, to anything but sit there.

Jack lurched to his feet, one hand coming up to scrub through his hair. "It means that I have to call Brightman and have her check you out." He met her eyes, apology mixed with that same uneasiness. "My job requires it when something," he paused as if searching for the right word, "unusual happens. This is unusual."

"Who's Brightman?" Yeah, she sure as hell sounded suspicious.

"My doctor."

There was no way she was agreeing to an examination by his doctor. Who knew what might turn up in the results. All she needed was to become some lab rat locked in a cage by the military. Suspicion was turning into pissed off. It was the most normal she'd felt since waking up in his bed. Their bed. She shoved that thought aside for a better one. "You have a job that requires," she felt his wince at the emphasized word, "me to be checked out by your doctor? What the hell kind of job do you have?"

"Deep space radar telemetry."

"What is that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Now he was starting to sound pissed. Great, she'd married a man with as volatile a temper as hers. What had she been thinking?

"It sounds like a bunch of crap. Care to explain a little?"

"You know I can't talk about it."

"Well apparently I don't know about it!"

The shout rang through the room, freezing them both motionless. Jack broke first, a sigh lifting his shoulders. "Faith, there's nothing I can say that will make this situation any easier, but I don't have a choice. I deal with too much craziness to not follow the rules." He held her gaze, face expressionless but for a tightening of his lips. "I don't have a choice."

His quietly repeated words hit with the impact of a troll hammer. As far as she could see she had two options. One – she bailed. Right out the front door without looking back. She'd lived most of her life by wits alone more often than not. She could do it again, three years out of her time or not. If that story was true. Or two – she trusted Jack, the man who she'd supposedly married. The man who'd befriended a scared teenager with more power than sense. The man whose touch felt familiar yet new at the same time.

"Where are we?" she asked, stalling, thumb unconsciously rubbing the smooth band around her finger.

"Our house."

"Thank you, Mr. Obvious. I meant what state? City?" She couldn't help the sarcastic tone, it was as natural as breathing.

Once again, that tiny smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Colorado Springs, Colorado."

Well damn. Even that matched. A sinking feeling filled her gut. Somehow she didn't think Jack was the butt of this particular joke. No, that was her specialty. Meeting his eyes solidly, she nodded once before she could chicken out. "Call this Brightman person. Let's get this over with."

His smile widening slightly, some of the tension eased from his tall frame. "Why don't you get dressed," he suggested, stepping over to the phone.

Watching him dial from memory, Faith stood on not completely steady legs. She could always bail if things went south, right? Jack's voice was a low rumble that followed her back to the bedroom. Yeah, bailing was always a good Plan B. But as she pulled jeans in her size from the dresser that sinking feeling became a full flood of nausea.

Definitely the butt someone's twisted joke.

* * *

TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details.

Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for the fb! I truly appreciate your generosity. It makes my little heart float on a cloud all day. I hope you enjoy Part 2 as much. A special thanks to Lynette for taking the time to read this over, even though she's not a big Faith fan. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

* * *

Part 2

* * *

Four hours and a battery of tests later found her sitting on a bed covered in white sheets waiting for her husband – she was still having trouble processing that one – and the doctor to return. The air conditioning whirred quietly, keeping the room just a little too cold. 

She couldn't believe she'd lost three whole years.

The last thing she remembered before waking up in Jack's house was killing a racgang demon with Buffy. It had led them all over Cleveland and into the suburbs before they'd cornered it and put it out of its misery. But with its death, something within Faith had finally had enough. Enough killing, enough dying, enough blood and mayhem. Finally, simply enough. She'd handed her axe to B and walked away, ignoring the confused questions the tiny blonde had pelted her with.

And then woken up three years later. Jack's wife.

Her thoughts flew back to when the doctor, Brightman, had begun her examination. She'd gently run her hands over Faith's head looking for any bumps or soreness, a running stream of questions flowing out of her mouth.

"And you didn't hit your head last night or this morning?"

Faith's eyes had flown to meet Jack's and the guilt there had her curling her hands around the edge of the bed hard enough to leave imprints in the metal rail. He'd opened his mouth and she'd known what he was going to say. She beat him to it. "No. I didn't." A soft smile of thanks curved his lips upward, sending waves of heat through her body. Quickly, she turned back to Brightman. "I mean, I don't think so. I might have hit the headboard in my sleep, but that wouldn't cause this, would it?"

The other woman had agreed it probably couldn't and had continued her exam. Jack had stayed in the background, eyes always fixed on Faith and every movement she made.

So now she sat, waiting. Jumping off the bed, she prowled around the room. What was taking so long? This was supposed to be some kind of high speed military hospital. Couldn't they work faster?

The sound of footsteps caught her attention and she froze, listening intently. They stopped outside the door, but it didn't open. Muffled words floated toward her, one softer, lighter – probably Brightman, she guessed – one deeper and very familiar. Jack. She strained her ears, using every bit of Slayer sense she possessed and suddenly it snapped into focus.

"You're saying it's really Faith."

"Yes, sir. Every scan matches. Brain waves, blood type, fingerprints, even the initial DNA test is a perfect match."

"So what happened? Why is she missing three years of her life?"

"I have no idea, General. There's nothing wrong with her. As always, your wife is in perfect health."

A long pause had Faith taking a step toward the door. Had they walked away? And why did they have her DNA? Had she given it to them? All good questions to add to her growing list.

"What about, you know, low key type stuff?"

What the hell did that mean? What was a low key? And what kind of stuff did it have?

"The only way to test for cloning is the DNA. Unlike the tiny discrepancy yours showed, hers is perfect. Even after the full results are in I don't think anything will show up."

Cloning? She had to have heard that one wrong. Faith could hear his sigh through the door and halfway across a room.

"So basically we're screwed."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. At least he was able to keep a sense of humor about everything.

"I'm sorry, sir. Maybe it'll correct itself."

"And how often has that happened over the years?" Without waiting for a response, Jack pushed the door open and met Faith's startled eyes.

Thinking quickly, she dialed back on the Slayer hearing. "What's the verdict?"

"There is none," Brightman announced, setting the folder she carried on the bed. "You're as healthy as the last time you were here."

"You're telling me you did all those tests and we have squat?" A snort of laughter from Jack surprised a smile from Faith, but it faded almost immediately. "There has got to be something. People don't just go to bed one night and wake up three years later." Except she didn't even remember going to sleep after walking away from Buffy and the racgang demon carcass. As much as she was hoping for a medical reason to appear, she was starting to believe the answer had to be a mystical one. And there was no way she was going to share that theory with Jack. He had given no sign he knew about her as the Slayer. His concern he might have hurt her that morning seemed to confirm his lack of knowledge.

Why had she never told him? How had she kept it hidden? Wouldn't a husband notice mysterious bruises and cuts? A quiet voice spoke up from the back of her mind. There wouldn't be any cuts or bruises if she'd stopped patrolling, stopped hunting vampires and demons. Is that what she had done? Turned her back on her calling? She'd grown tired of the killing, yes, but to just give up permanently? Had she really done that?

"Not usually, no." Brightman's voice yanked her out of her thoughts. "But medically there is nothing wrong with you. I'm sorry." The doctor picked up the folder and turned to look at Jack. "General, I'll call you when the final results are in."

Jack nodded, hands shoved into his pockets. "Thanks, Dr. Brightman. I'll have my cell on me all day."

"Faith, it was good to see you again."

Cocking her head to one side, she raised an eyebrow. "Wish I could say the same." Brightman smiled, either at the words themselves or the flat tone, and walked out the door. Turning back to Jack, Faith shrugged. "What do we do now?"

"Go home?"

It was a tentative question. The hint of wariness that had been in his eyes since she'd first opened her mouth that morning was gone. In its place was a skittishness she had a feeling he'd deny with his last breath. "Sure. I got nowhere else to be." She returned his smile, a tiny shiver of reaction pulsing through her.

The walk through the hospital was filled with a companionable silence. Faith was surprised she didn't feel the need to cram the space with chatter. She'd never been one for quiet before. But something about Jack relaxed her, made her feel like it was okay to be herself. And herself had a few questions he just might answer now that Brightman had cleared her of being a whatever it was he'd been afraid of this morning. Might as well start with a big one. "So. General, huh?"

"Yeah," he muttered, steps speeding up slightly. "Someone's got a bad sense of humor."

Was the big, bad military man actually embarrassed? Matching him stride for stride, Faith looked over to see the tips of his ears turn a bright red. He was. Definitely something to remember for later. "And this someone with the bad sense of humor has you running deep space radio whatever?"

"Deep space radar telemetry," he corrected, shooting her a quelling look she wasn't sure he really meant. "And I still can't talk about it."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Both." He stopped beside the large truck, keys dangling from one hand. "But mostly can't. I never have been able to understand exactly how we do what we do."

Laughing at the unrepentant look on his face, she rested her hands on her hips. Their banter was as familiar as her reflection and came without thought. "And they put you in charge?"

"Ha ha. I oversee the personnel, not the experiments. I don't have to know how to explain anything." With a self-satisfied smirk, he clicked the button on the remote to unlock the doors.

Still smiling uncontrollably, she reached for the door handle only to find Jack's hand already there. Before she realized it, he'd helped her up into the tall cab with a hand at the small of her back. Faith met his eyes, startled. No one had ever opened a door for her, let alone helped her into a vehicle. Yet the gesture had been automatic for him, of that she had no doubt. "Thanks," she said quietly, forestalling the apology she could see brewing on his face.

With a small smile, he closed the door and started around the hood to the driver's side. Her throat burned just the tiniest bit as she watched his lanky form round the bumper. She swallowed the sensation down impatiently. Jack's gentlemanly inclinations didn't have any bearing at the moment. She had to find out how she'd gotten into the future, who had done it and how she was going to get back to her time. Those were her priorities.

But her determination wavered when he was buckled in next to her with the keys in the ignition. If he'd just started the damn thing and driven them back to the house she wouldn't have faltered, she was sure of it. Reaching over with one hand, he snagged hers, pulling it to his mouth and settling a gentle kiss on the knuckles. Only nerves steeled by years as the Slayer kept her from yanking her hand away in shock, though his action was as far from an attack as she could imagine.

This time he got the words out. "Sorry. Habit." Refusing to meet her eyes, he dropped her hand and turned the ignition with a sharp snapping motion.

The truck roared to life, ending the sudden uncomfortable silence. Faith couldn't take her eyes off him. His jaw was tight, the tendons prominently displayed as if he was clenching his teeth together. Her hand, where his lips had touched her skin, burned white hot. Damn it, she had her priorities. Why did Jack have to keep doing all those tiny husbandly-like things, throwing her off balance? And why did she have to like those tiny husbandly-like things? Why did she have to like him?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she tossed her priorities out the proverbial window and grabbed his arm to keep him from putting the truck in gear. "Jack." She waited for him to look over at her. "Just act like you normally would, like you did yesterday and the day before. You know, before I went all Rip Van Winkle. And your habits? They're okay. Really."

He didn't believe her. "I touch you a lot, Faith. If you're going to freeze up every time I'd rather not."

Ouch. Okay, that's what hurt Jack sounded like. "You heard Brightman. There's nothing wrong with me. This may be a lasting thing and if it is I'd rather make the best of it. We're married. We touch. I'll get used to it." As soon as the words escaped she winced. "That didn't come out right."

Surprisingly, a ghost of a smile relaxed his face. "Actually, it did."

"So we're good?" She didn't see how he equated her foot in her mouth with something resembling coherent, but she wasn't going to argue with success. "You pretend nothing's wrong and I'll let you know if I'm not comfortable?"

"Yeah, we're good." He squeezed her hand, still on his arm, and the smile widened. "Now can we go home?"

Waving toward the windshield, she leaned back into the seat. "Drive away." Faith studied him as he maneuvered through the parking lot and out onto the street, not bothering to pay attention to the turns he took. He handled the big vehicle with an easy confidence she was starting to associate with Jack in general. She didn't think much shook him, although that morning's surprise had done a pretty good job of it.

"Crap."

Tensing at the quiet curse, she automatically opened her senses, eyes scanning the road around them for any threat. "What? What crap?" When she saw nothing but normal Saturday type traffic, she turned back to catch his sideways glance.

"The team's supposed to come over tonight."

She was sure if anyone else who knew Jack was sitting in her place right then they would have understood what he was talking about. "The team?"

"My team," he clarified. "Okay, they're not really my team anymore, but they are. You know?"

Not bothering to conceal her smile, she nodded, body relaxing fully. There was no threat, at least not a physical one. "As much as that didn't make sense, I got it." And she did. While the Scoobies always had been and always would be B's 'team', Faith had liked to pretend they were hers as well. "Why is it supposed to come over instead of is coming over?"

"You sure? They can be a handful under normal circumstances."

"If you're talking ten you're on your own. Three or four I'm pretty sure I can handle." Yep, that was definitely laughter in his eyes.

"I'll remind you of that statement later tonight."

Despite the teasing words, Faith could see he was pleased with her willingness to make an effort. She settled against the seat again, arms crossing over her chest. "So give me the four-one-one already. The least you can do is give me some advance warning."

He pulled up at a stop sign before searching her face intently. He must have found what he was looking for since he nodded, signaled and cruised around the corner. "Okay, pay attention. There'll be a quiz later. Carter is the one who can explain how we do what we do, but don't bother asking unless. . ."

* * *

TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: Once again, I can't thank you all enough for the great comments. It's fantastic to see that people are sticking with this rather unusual pairing and giving them a chance. As for the many questions everyone's asked, I promise they'll be answered. Just not yet. evil grin A big hug and huge thanks go again to Lynette for her wonderful, and extremely fast, abilities as beta. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

* * *

Part 3

* * *

Her cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. Jack's sense of humor was sarcastic, witty and more often than not self-directed. His descriptions of his team had surprised more laughter out of her than anything in the past ten years combined.

She was still grinning slightly as they walked up the drive towards the front door. The house, now that she could be bothered to look, was nothing special, yet it had a character that invited a body to pull up a chair and make herself at home. She liked the unpretentious, straightforward landscaping and the lack of frills in its simple lines. Looking over to the man at her side as he unlocked the door, her smile dimmed. Was she really thinking about the house or its owner?

Shaking off the atypical thoughts, she followed Jack into the entryway, the one she'd surprised him in just that morning. She watched silently as he tossed the keys onto a small table next to the door and kept moving through the walkthrough into the kitchen. Now that they were there, she had no idea what to do next. As much as every piece of physical evidence screamed it, this wasn't her home. She didn't know where the towels were hidden, she didn't know if there was both coffee and tea in the house. She didn't even know how many bedrooms there were.

It was suddenly imperative to have something, anything familiar. Something that was hers. She was choking on things she didn't know, couldn't remember. She couldn't even talk about her suspicions with the man she'd chosen to spend her life with! The words escaped without any thought. "Jack, do you mind if I use the phone?"

Halting instantly, he turned and crossed the room back to her. "You don't have to ask permission to do anything. This is our house." He lifted his hand slowly, as if toward a skittish shaerly demon, and gently gripped her upper arm. "Just act naturally."

"Thanks," she whispered, the warmth of his hand melting some of the rigidity from her muscles.

"Why don't you use the phone in the office? I'll be making some noise in the kitchen."

"Pre-barbeque type noises?" She didn't wait for an answer, her mouth continuing without thought despite her anxiety. "I'll stay out of the way then. I know all about men and their charcoal."

Snorting back a laugh, Jack tweaked her nose before she could flinch away. "Brat. For that you can help me chop veggies later."

"Anything but that," she said dramatically, heart already lighter from his easy teasing. He shot her a wink and headed back into the kitchen. His trust sent waves of guilt through her gut. She didn't deserve it, clean bill of health from Brightman aside, when she still wasn't sure she really was his wife. The guilt forced her feet forward onto the tile. Jack's head was buried in the refrigerator, clanking noises not quite muffling the running commentary coming from his mouth. "It's long distance." She at least had to warn him his bill might be a little higher than normal.

"Don't care." He hadn't even looked around the door, just went back to his muttering.

"I'm calling Cleveland." Yeah, okay, it did have a slightly petulant tone and she should probably be more appreciative, but she was serious and he was more concerned with whatever it was he was muttering at. "It might be a really long call."

"Summers?" Stepping away from the fridge, he carried a bag of tomatoes and peppers over to the counter. He flashed a smile over his shoulder she felt all the way to her toes. "Tell her I said hi." And he went back to the vegetables.

She watched him for a minute longer, not sure what to make of their exchange. It appeared once Jack gave his trust that was it, there was no second guessing for him. Brightman had vouched for her and that was that. But she knew, with a sudden instinctive clarity, that once lost his trust would be next to impossible to regain. With a shrug, she headed in search of the office. She was the Slayer. If she could find one six-inch tall demon in a maze of tunnels she should be able to find an itty bitty room in a new place. The house couldn't be that big, could it?

Five minutes later she was closing the door behind her. She'd found the office easily enough on the lower level EM1 of the house but had sidetracked to familiarize herself with the layout of the entire place. The Slayer had determined it was defensible if necessary and Faith had pushed the thought aside roughly. She hadn't seen or heard anything to indicate there was any demon population to speak of in the town. But she'd been wrong before.

Like the rest of the house, what Jack called the office was neat and orderly without being obsessive. A simple wooden desk with a desktop computer, cordless phone and neatly stacked files, two bookcases filled to almost overflowing, a four drawer filing cabinet and two desk chairs encompassed the main portion of the small room. The wall opposite the desk was covered with framed accolades, awards, decorations and even a degree certificate. Feeling just the slightest bit intimidated at the display, she stepped closer to read the small print. Jack had a master's degree in aeronautics. Hadn't he just told her in the truck everyone he worked with was 'way smarter than he was?' Slightly intimidated turned into downright dwarfed. She hadn't even finished high school. She'd been too busy saving the world, turning evil and getting arrested to bother with reenrolling in school. And once they'd closed the Sunnydale Hellmouth there hadn't seemed to be a point in trying. It wasn't like she was going to need a diploma to kill vampires and demons.

Dejected, she glanced over the other signs of Jack's overachieverness, idly wondering why she was bothering. How had they ever hooked up in the first place? He was so out of her league they didn't even live on the same planet.

About to turn to the phone, knowing her pride really couldn't take much more, her eye was caught by what looked like her name. What the hell? That couldn't be right.

And yet there it was in black and white and gold. One GED certificate awarded to a Faith O'Neill in the year 2004. She'd gone back to school.

Blinking furiously to clear her vision – she was not tearing up, damn it – she ran shaking fingers over the glass. It didn't disappear as she was half afraid it would. It was real. She wondered if any of the Scoobies knew about this or if she'd kept it a secret from them. Buffy had always told her she could be a Slayer and have a life at the same time. Until now, Faith hadn't believed her.

With one last lingering look at her certificate, she walked the few steps to the desk, sitting in one of the chairs. She grabbed the receiver and started pounding out numbers, but stopped almost instantly. What if the number wasn't the same? Why hadn't she thought of that? Disgusted with herself, she set the phone on the desk, trying to decide whether or not to call information. Eyeing the address book lying next to the base station, she drummed her fingers on her leg. It wouldn't . . .

Oh, what the hell. Stranger things had happened to her in the past six hours. Flipping quickly to the S's, she ran a finger down the neatly printed list of names. Sacks, Sarten, Scrapton, blah, blah, blah, Summers. Buffy Summers. She'd told him about Buffy but not about being the Slayer? What had that conversation sounded like? She and B weren't exactly two people someone would instantly choose to be bosom buddies.

Before she could change her mind, she picked up the phone again and dialed. Three rings and then a voice she'd heard only the night before answered.

"Hello and thank you for calling Insanityville. How may I direct your call?"

It must have been a pretty bad week if B was resorting to confusing innocent bystanders on the phone. The sound of her voice brought the nonexistent wetness back to her eyes. Finally, something that was recognizable.

"Hello? Speak or I'm hanging up."

"B," Faith finally managed to spit out.

"Faith," her voice brightened and Faith could hear the smile with four states between them. "How was the anniversary? A week on a tropical island where clothing is optional? I so covet your life. Give me everything! You know I live vicariously through you. Don't leave out a single detail."

Unable to hold back the laughter, she halted the flood of words before Buffy passed out from lack of oxygen. "Woah, there. You okay? You're channeling more than a little Willow, you know."

Sounding unrepentant, Buffy gave her own snort of laughter. "And your point is? Now spill."

"Believe it or not, I'd love to." She had no words to express how true that was. "But I can't."

"Come on, I share the blood and guts with you. You share the domestic bliss with me. That's the deal."

Her smile widened at the wheedling before disappearing completely. "B, has anything weird happened lately? Slayer-type weird?"

"Just a horde of zithrals we finally got rid of last night," she said, all humor erased from her voice. "Why? What's wrong? Is Jack okay?"

"He's fine, I think. It's me."

"What's wrong, Faith?" There was no dissembling, B wanted an answer. Unfortunately, Faith didn't have one.

"I'm not sure. Not really." She took a breath, rubbing her eyes. "Apparently I've forgotten the last three years of my life."

"What!"

Yanking the phone away from her ear, Faith winced. Maybe she could have found a better way to say it. Now for the fun part. Leaving nothing out, she recounted the entire morning. Buffy listened quietly, interrupting only to ask for more specifics on a few bits. When she finally fell silent she leaned back in the chair, uncomfortably relieved to have dumped it all on someone else.

"Wow." Faith could see Buffy pacing across the distance. "I've never heard of anything like this. Not a spell or demon. Do you want me to see if Will can find anything?"

"Please," she said, hand unclenching from around the receiver. "I want this mess fixed as quick as possible."

"How's Jack doing?"

"'How's Jack?'" she parroted, spine straightening stiffly. "How about a little 'How's Faith?' Jack's not the one missing large chunks of his life."

"You're a Slayer. You've been dealing with things of the weird most of your life. He's just a normal flyboy." When Buffy paused carefully, Faith knew she wasn't going to like what came out next. "He might not be missing his memory, but he is missing his wife."

Yeah, that was the point she'd forgotten in the midst of her relief and indignation. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to be Jack's wife. She didn't know how to be anything but a Slayer. "B." She hesitated, a shaking beginning in her chest. "How do I . . ." She couldn't even finish.

Thankfully, Buffy knew her better than she did herself. "Just be nice to him. He's a good guy, Faith." An unexpected giggle came over the line. "He even took it in stride when I threatened him."

"When did you do that?"

"On your wedding day. I was your Maid of Honor." The seriousness came back without warning. "I told him if he hurt you I'd have to rearrange all his body parts."

If she'd ever thought B hadn't forgiven her for her jealous stupidity years ago, that one statement erased any doubt. "Thanks. But I doubt he took you seriously." Before Buffy could go on, there were a few things she had to get cleared up. "Do you know if I ever told Jack about us? About being a Slayer?" And how weird was it to be asking someone else about her own life?

"I don't think so. Since you've been there you've only run into a handful of vampires and no demons at all. Willow said there was some kind of weird energy around the whole town, kind of like a giant bug zapper. Not evil or anything. But whatever it is seems to keep the demon population at zilch."

Wasn't that a cool bit of knowledge. Had they taken any readings to see if the effect could be duplicated around the Hellmouth? Shaking off the Giles-like thought, she tapped one finger on her jeans clad knee. "Then why didn't I tell him?" There had to be an answer somewhere. She wouldn't have married him if she didn't think he could handle the whole package.

A heavy sigh echoed over the line. "Faith, I don't know. You never really told me why you were leaving. One day you just started packing. Said it was time to go."

"And you let me?"

"I admit I was a little irked at the time," and that had to be the understatement of the year, "but who was I to try and stop you? All you said was one day you might be able to tell me. Whatever that meant."

She let out a grunt, hand fisting tightly. So much for any clues from the Scoobies. If she hadn't told Buffy she certainly wouldn't have confided in any of the others. "I'm sorry, B. I'm just a little frustrated right now." Frustrated and still piling up more questions than answers.

"Be frustrated all you want. Just don't ever start to think you're not exactly where you're meant to be."

Huh? "You lost me with that sharp left turn. Want to translate?"

There was silence for almost a full ten seconds as if Buffy was trying to decide not only what to say but how to say it. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, hesitant, and yet awed at the same time. "About a year ago I asked you if you regretted your decision to stop being a Slayer. To marry Jack and basically just live a normal life."

"What could I possibly say to explain away abandoning you to the Hellmouth?" Faith's voice came out bitter, confused and downright scared without any conscious thought. And she definitely didn't think there was any reasoning able to justify what she'd done. "No man, however perfect he might appear, is worth giving everything up for."

"You're right, Faith. You told me he was worth living for."

Her mouth shut with an audible snap. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could even think after that. For the first time in years she was stunned into absolute silence.

"That's why you have to give this a chance, give him a break, even if you don't remember a thing." Buffy spoke softly, her voice soothing over Faith's dazed brain. "You'll never forgive yourself if this gets screwed up."

Somehow she found the words to end the conversation after getting Buffy to promise to call when she had any news from Willow. Dropping the receiver absently in her lap, Faith stared blindly at the computer screen. She screwed everything up. It was a given. If she was involved, unless it had something to do with being the Slayer, there was no question – it was doomed to failure. Especially in her personal life.

She could count on one hand the number of normal relationships she'd had in her life. Hell, she could be missing a few fingers and still have more than enough left over. And B was telling her to not mess up with Jack? That was like asking a vampire to switch to V8 juice. Not going to happen. She wouldn't do it on purpose, but eventually she always did something wrong.

A strident beeping cut into her morbid thoughts. The phone. She hadn't even disconnected after Buffy had hung up. Pushing the button roughly, she tossed the handset onto the desk. So, no answers. At least until Willow was able to find something. Damn it, she just wasn't cut out for this kind of stuff. Give her a demon or a good old fashioned horde any day. Those she knew how to deal with.

Standing, she scooted the chair back into the desk where she'd found it. The situation wasn't going to fix itself by hiding in the office. It was time to get back upstairs and get to know her husband and his friends.

With one last lingering look at the certificate on the wall, she walked out the door, back straight. Apparently she had some vegetables to chop.

* * *

TBC 

Author's note: For those of you who are more Jack fans, he has a much larger role in the parts to come. Thanks for staying with us!


	4. Chapter 4

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: It's been brought to my attention that readers outside the US are unfamiliar with the GED so I thought I'd clear that up a little. The GED is the American high school equivalency test as well as the name of the certificate. It takes the place of a diploma for people who want to leave high school early but still want to "graduate", people who drop out and go back to school some point later, or for people who immigrate into the country and don't have some kind of certificate or diploma showing a high school level of education. Almost all colleges and universities require either a high school diploma or a GED. My apologies for any confusion this created when reading Part 3.

Heartfelt thanks go to the readers who continue to send such wonderful reviews. Hopefully Part 4 will live up to your expectations. Special thanks and a bag of Jaffas to Lynette for her beta skills, especially when I'm about to pull out every last strand of hair off my head. I think I'd look pretty stupid bald. (vbg) As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

* * *

Part 4

* * *

"So these guys like me, right?" 

She could hear the smile even though she didn't look up at his face. "Yes, they do."

Watching the car come to a halt in the driveway from her spot in the doorway, she couldn't help the shiver that worked its way down her spine. "And I like them. Right?"

"Yes, you do." The smile was even bigger now. Jack cupped one hand over her shoulder in a quick squeeze she enjoyed far too much for her jumping thoughts to process. "Would you relax? They're not going to bite."

That's actually what she was afraid of – that she really would find herself liking them, as she'd found herself liking the man at her side with each passing hour spent in his company. No topic had been safe from his humor. Television to politics was treated with the same sharpness of tongue he'd displayed at the hospital that morning. She'd even surprised herself as she chopped the onions by responding to something he'd said with the first thing that came into her head, one of the little sarcastic thoughts she normally kept firmly under control ever since her time in lockup. But the smile he'd given her had spoken of his familiarity with her sometimes off-color comments. Maybe it was his personal brand of humor, so similar to hers, that convinced her it was okay to really speak her mind. By the time she was done with the second onion, her hesitation had disappeared. And after the first twenty minutes together in the kitchen he couldn't seem to move past her without reaching out a hand to brush over her arm or the back of her neck. She honestly didn't think he was even aware of it. He'd told her in the truck he touched her a lot. He hadn't lied. And she'd enjoyed every one of his casual little caresses.

Their afternoon had ticked away in a quiet, comfortable and completely normal way Faith had never experienced before. She'd chopped vegetables, admittedly the slices weren't anywhere close to even, and shifted raw meat in a marinade Jack had called the closest thing to heaven you could eat. Remembering the look on his face as he'd mixed the brew brought a tiny smile to her face as three doors opened on the vehicle EM1 and two men and a woman stepped out.

From Jack's descriptions she knew the names that went with the faces, knew how they fit into the puzzle that was his old team, at least as much as he could tell her, and what their specialties were. What she didn't know was how she'd first met them, under what circumstances, what they talked about when they got together. All the important little stuff she could have rattled off about any one of the Scoobies. She also didn't know what could possibly have brought four less diametrically opposed people together long enough to form the close relationships – she couldn't call it friendships since it appeared to be so much more than that – that had lasted eight long years.

"You sure it was a good idea to not give them any advance warning?" Jack had insisted it would be easier to tell them when the three arrived rather than call each one individually and explain the problem multiple times.

He didn't answer, merely squeezed her shoulder one more time before stepping forward to greet the trio moving up the walk. The imprint of warmth his hand left through her t-shirt traveled down the length of her arm as she watched him lift that same hand in a jaunty wave. Reaching up slowly to rub the spot, she breathed out a sigh. She was going to have to decide what to do about her reaction every time he touched her. But for now, she was curious to see how he'd break the news. She should have known he was going to just blurt it out. She'd done as much to B earlier that day and Jack's sense of tact was about as refined as hers.

"Hey guys. Take it easy on Faith for a little while tonight. She's not really feeling like herself. Actually, she's not feeling like herself before three years ago."

He stopped them dead in their tracks. "Uh, Jack?" Daniel asked, shooting an apologetic look over to Faith who'd stayed in the doorway. She smiled. Somehow she knew he'd be the one to ask. "What are you talking about?"

As Jack waved them up the porch and into the house, breaking their paralysis, he gave such a concise report of her memory loss and Brightman's lack of findings that Faith could have sworn he was briefing a room full of military brass. Biting back a laugh she realized he was, at least to a certain extent.

"But you are otherwise uninjured?" Teal'c asked, his voice deep and the words carefully enunciated.

Meeting his eyes, Faith momentarily forgot the question. She'd seen eyes like his only a few times in her life. Buffy had eyes like that. And Faith saw them staring back at her every time she looked in a mirror. They were full of shadows, of a darkness that had nothing to do with color and everything to do with too much life in too little time. She wondered what had put such intense shadows there. As Slayers she and B had plenty of reason. Teal'c didn't have that excuse. And, she realized with a jolt, Jack had them as well. Just what had he lived through to put them there? Abruptly realizing Teal'c was still waiting for an answer, she shelved the questions for later and gave a shrug. "Perfectly healthy according to Dr. Brightman."

Jack gave her a smile as he walked past her into the kitchen, one hand trailing down her arm as he went. "You guys want the normal?" She found herself grinning at the gesture. Whether he'd meant it as comfort for her or himself she couldn't say, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

None of the three answered Jack's question as they stood in stunned silence in the living room. She held her smile, but it was starting to turn stiff when he came down the two stairs leading from the kitchen with a glass of juice in one hand, a diet coke in the other. "All right already. Enough with the gawking. I know she's gorgeous, but let's not give her a big head about it." Heat worked its way up her neck and into her face. Was she blushing from a tossed off compliment that hadn't even been meant as one? Hoping it would fade before anyone else noticed, she caught Jack shooting the trio a glare she couldn't interpret. Apparently they could, however, since Carter – or was she supposed to call her Sam? – accepted the coke with a quiet thanks and turned to Faith.

"Why don't we relax and let the menfolk turn perfectly good meat into charcoal briquettes?"

"Hey!" Jack's intent glare disappeared in a puff of indignation. "One burned steak and you never let me forget it."

"Of course not, sir." Carter didn't sound the least bit contrite, the smile barely curving her lips and yet lighting up her eyes. "We can't let Faith start thinking you're perfect." Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed Faith's arm and tugged her farther into the room toward the couch. Faith shot Jack a slightly panicked look over her shoulder only to receive his nod of approval. Teal'c had the smallest of smiles on his face and Daniel was smothering a laugh behind one hand.

"Gentlemen, let's retire to the grill. We don't have to put up with this kind of abuse. Daniel, grab your own poison and meet us." The injured tone pulled a laugh from Carter as Jack spun around and stalked off into the kitchen.

"I do not believe Colonel Carter's comment was directed at either of us," Teal'c said pointedly to Daniel, his smile still firmly in place.

"I heard that!"

Letting her own grin widen at the banter, Faith settled herself more comfortably on the couch as the two men followed Jack into the kitchen. Carter sat in the armchair next to her, can of coke held easily in one hand. The other woman was blonde, tall and, according to everything Jack had told her, way smarter than Faith could ever hope to be. That intimidated feeling came creeping back, seeping through her just like when she'd stared at Jack's wall of wonders. She didn't like the feeling any better this time. Forcing her voice to not show it, she swallowed dryly and said, "Jack told me you're a scientist, an astro-something or other."

"Astrophysicist."

She appreciated the fact Carter didn't sound like she was talking to a three year old. "He also told me we're pretty good friends." The blonde nodded and took another sip of her coke. The nonjudgmental look in the blue eyes seemed to give her permission to be honest. "I've got to tell you, though, I just can't see how we'd have anything to talk about. I've never really been one to meld with the books."

"Faith." Carter stopped the almost babble with just her name. "The general is one of the best judges of character I've ever met. And by no means did he marry an idiot. Book smarts aren't always the most important knowledge."

What was it about these people? Every feeling of inadequacy that popped up they disarmed with a few simple words of kindness. Had she been that starving, that desperate for acceptance for who she was instead of what she was? First Jack and now Carter. Was it because they were older than she was? Even Daniel had a decade on her. Well, it could only be seven years if she counted the three years she was missing. "So what do we talk about, Carter?"

"Men," she answered instantly, face innocence personified. They both chuckled, the last of the tension easing from Faith's body. "And Faith? Call me Sam."

"You got it." She stood, intent on the kitchen and a coke herself when a thought struck. Turning quickly, she blurted it out before she could change her mind. "You were at the wedding, right? Mine and Jack's?"

"I was one of your bridesmaids."

Damn. Just how many people had she asked to be in the ceremony? "Would you mind if we went through some of the pictures? You can give me all the gory details. I mean, I would ask Jack, but. . ." She trailed off, uncertainty creeping back in.

"I'd love to help you out." There was not one iota of impatience in her voice. "I'll get the album and you get whatever you got up for."

Smiling her thanks, Faith headed into the kitchen. This was going to be the most interesting evening she'd had in a long time. Grabbing a beer instead of the intended soft drink, she popped the cap off and tossed it in the trash, returning to the living room in time to see Sam sit on the couch with a large, light grey photo album in hand. "So where did we do the deed?"

"The deed? You make it sound like an execution." Plopping down next to the other woman, Faith wasn't sure what kind of response Sam expected so she took the safest route and kept her mouth shut. Thankfully, Sam went on without appearing to notice. "It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon at the Air Force Academy Chapel." She flipped the front cover of the book open, revealing a smaller version of the candid shot above the fireplace. "I've always thought this summed up your relationship with the general perfectly."

A little startled by the comment, she looked up from the picture to meet Sam's eyes. The other woman was smiling, but it was a smile filled with awe and not a tiny bit of wistfulness. "Why do you say that?"

"Head over heels. No other way to describe the two of you." She held up a hand to halt the questions already forming. "Don't get me wrong, both of you can be more stubborn than a mule in a snowstorm and I have to tell you when you do fight it's pretty spectacular. But there's never a doubt you love each other, even in the middle of an argument."

Faith looked back down at the picture, her stomach twisting at the emotions plain on both faces. "He seems like a really good guy." It was all she could manage to force out.

"There's no one better to have watching your back."

The highest praise that could be given from a career military woman. What the hell had he been thinking when he'd chosen her?

"You said you wanted gory details," Sam interrupted the depressing thought before it could get any farther, seeming to realize Faith desperately needed a shift in mood. "Well, you came to the right person. I've got them all."

Faith took a long drink from her bottle, clearing the feeling of cotton from her mouth and throat. "Let's hear it. Don't leave anything out."

Before long Sam had her giggling and tossing in her own snarky comments without holding back. Jack's team seemed to find trouble anywhere they went, a talent Faith had thought was exclusive to the Scoobies. There was one picture in particular that had sent Sam into a round of laughter that had her reaching for a tissue to wipe her streaming eyes. Everyone had been in it, the Scoobies, Jack's team and a whole slew of people Sam had told her were from Cheyenne Mountain where Jack worked. Apparently it had taken almost twenty minutes to take the picture. The photographer had insisted they couldn't get that many people into the frame which had turned it into a challenge neither Jack or, surprisingly enough, Buffy had been able to pass up. Sam's descriptions of the ensuing chaos had Faith wiping a few tears from her own cheeks.

At one point in the telling, she felt eyes on her and looked up quickly, all senses going to max. Jack stood in the kitchen doorway, barbeque tongs in one hand, a smile she could only call tender on his face. Their eyes met for a long moment and her mirth faded, Sam's voice a muted murmur next to her. In that moment, feeling the love and acceptance from Jack across twenty feet of empty space, it didn't matter how she'd gotten there. It didn't matter that she couldn't remember any of it. She'd been handed everything she'd never allowed herself to hope for. B had said it plainly and while Faith had heard the words, she hadn't understood.

Jack and all they'd built together was worth everything.

His lips twitching farther upward into a full-fledge grin, he winked at her, nodded once, and walked back through the doorway. Sam's voice finally penetrated the thoughts crashing around her head. Turning back to the photo album and the other woman, she focused intently on every word coming out of Sam's mouth. If this really was her life, she had a lot of work to do to get it back.

That feeling stayed with her throughout the rest of the evening. By the time Daniel, Sam and Teal'c were heading out the door, she was hurling mocking insults as often as Jack, as if she'd known them all for years. And while the entire evening was one she'd remember for a long time, there was one moment that stuck out vividly in her mind. Teal'c had been bringing in the last of the dishes from the grill on the back patio when Faith had cornered him to ask a couple of questions that had been bugging her since they'd arrived.

When Jack had described the man that afternoon, Faith couldn't imagine a less likely candidate for a one letter name. "As in a cup of?" she'd asked. Laughing, he told her it was more like Mr. T and to just go with it.

After taking the large platter from him and setting it into the sink, she turned, one hand on her hip. "That's a hell of a tattoo you've got."

She would have sworn his hand almost reached up to rub the emblem in the center of his forehead. "A reminder of mistaken childhood beliefs."

That was something she could understand perfectly. "Ah. I've got a couple of those myself. They're just not as cool as yours." When he nodded in response, she smiled, liking him even more for the simplicity of his answer. "Where did your parents come up with your name?"

"It is a family name from long ago." He must have understood the perplexed look that came over her face because he continued without a pause. "My family was very traditional and maintained many habits others discarded through the generations."

"I noticed only Jack calls you T. Was he pulling my leg when he told me to call you that?"

Helping her transfer plates and silverware from the table to the sink with an air of someone who'd done it plenty of times before, he shook his head. "O'Neill was speaking the truth. You and he seem to enjoy using it over the full version."

"Is that why you never call him Jack?" If it sounded like she was grilling him for information he didn't show it. The man's composure never seemed to falter and his formal way of speaking gave her the impression he'd seen even more in his life than his eyes showed.

His small smile couldn't hide the shadows lurking behind the words. "O'Neill and I have been through much together over the years. I suppose it is our way of showing our respect for one another."

"In a manly way, of course." She couldn't help the smartass comment from escaping, but she didn't think he'd take offense to it. Teal'c had shown an understated humor that had taken her a little while to figure out.

"Of course." Stacking the final plate in the sink, he straightened, facing her full on. "He and I are as close as brothers. When O'Neill met you I feared your relationship would create a rift between us." He pushed on when she would have interrupted. "It was an irrational emotion that had no bearing in fact or history. It has been a joy to me to see him find happiness with you." He placed one large hand on her arm, his serious expression keeping her silent. "In the past when you have called me 'T' it was more than acceptable."

Now, watching Teal'c pull the door open to let the others out, his full meaning finally sank in. Somehow she had earned this man's respect, a feat she had a feeling was easier said than done. Lost in realization, she jumped slightly when Jack's voice broke through her contemplation.

"I'll see you guys on Tuesday. I'll call Walter tomorrow morning and let him know I'm taking Monday off, barring any emergencies."

"We've got it covered, sir," Sam said, tossing her coat over her arm. "I won't let him call you for anything less. Faith, let me know later in the week if you're feeling up to keeping our workout."

"Sure. I'm always up for a little exercise." She followed Jack out the door and onto the porch, reluctant to let the night end. But before she could come up with a reason to stop them, the three were in Sam's car and pulling out of the driveway.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Wrenching her eyes from the taillights growing smaller and smaller down the street, she looked over at Jack. "No, it wasn't bad at all. I liked them."

"I told you. Maybe next time you'll believe me."

She reached out a hand and smacked him lightly at the smug tone. "You think you have all the answers, huh?" Turning to go back into the house, she simply couldn't help herself. "Is that why you surround yourself with people who are smarter than you are?"

Her insult had no effect on him. "Yep. It keeps my enormous ego under control."

Giggling quietly, she headed for the kitchen and the small cluster of soda cans and beer bottles needing to be cleared off the table. One thing Jack couldn't be called was egotistical. But before she got anywhere close to the table, something she'd wanted to ask hours before and had forgotten in between chopping veggies and Jack's assault on her senses ran through her mind. "All those books in the office on astronomy?" Most of which she couldn't even pronounce the titles of. "Have you actually read them? Or are they just for decoration?"

"We have a telescope on the roof," he said, head jerking upwards. "We spend a lot of time up there during the summer."

A telescope? As in could actually see the stars in the sky? Could see the serenity of the heavens high above the chaos she knew the Earth to really contain?

"It's not really that late," Jack started a little hesitantly. "Do you want to head up for a little while?"

"Could we?"

A wide smile split his face at her obvious pleasure. "It's a clear night. Should have good visibility." She was out the kitchen door before he finished speaking. "Grab a sweatshirt first," he suggested, following her to the door. "It gets a little chilly up there."

Five minutes later she was comfortably wrapped in a Bronco's sweatshirt and watching Jack pull the cover off a telescope that was five times bigger than what she'd pictured. Apparently he really did understand all those books. "Can you see Pluto with that thing?"

He chuckled, setting the folded cover to the side. "No, but you can see Saturn's rings and Jupiter's eye on a good night." She stepped closer as he began fiddling with buttons on the main body. The tripod stand had been bolted to the roof, a solid affair she didn't think a good wind storm would have a chance of budging let alone ripping out. A remote control came out of his pocket and the cord was quickly plugged into the waiting socket.

"When did you get into astronomy?" she asked as he frowned at the small device and tapped a couple of buttons. The frown cleared when it beeped twice quietly.

"About ten years ago. Let's just say I got a crash course through my job and it stuck." She would have asked him what he was talking about, but he waved her closer with a grin. "Here. Take a look."

Eagerly, she took his place at the side of the telescope, leaning down over the eyepiece. He stepped back to rest one hip against the half wall surrounding the small area. "What am I looking at?" It was a ball of orange laced with dark browns and the smallest hint of red at the darkest parts. It was something so far away she didn't even know what words to use to describe the distance. It was amazing.

"Venus," he said quietly from his position a few feet away. "It's always been your favorite. There are more glamorous looking planets, more exciting comets and asteroids, but you always come back to Venus."

Staring through the eyepiece, she asked just as softly, "Did I ever tell you why?"

"Venus moves all alone in the sky, too fast for anything else to keep up. Because of that it can't be a part of any constellation. It doesn't have any moons and it sees its nearest neighbors once or twice a year from a few million miles away."

She blinked quickly when the tiny planet blurred for a second. "It sounds lonely." Why, out of all the miraculous things in the sky, had that been her favorite?

"You said it was your life before us. And every time you saw it you were reminded of how lucky we were now. You never wanted to take us for granted."

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get Venus back into focus. Jack's quiet words burned into her, searing their way through her gut and down deep into her soul.

"You and I, we don't talk about our pasts. There's too much pain on both sides and most of it is better left behind us anyway. I'm guessing that little planet is your way to tell yourself not to repeat history."

Leaning back, she turned to face him, one hand still on the telescope. "Jack, I'm so sorry."

"For what?" He genuinely didn't have a clue.

"For not remembering this, us."

"It's not your fault, Faith. I'm pretty sure you didn't make yourself forget parts of your life for the fun of it."

But that was one point she couldn't agree on and couldn't even talk about. Maybe she had. Maybe she'd asked Willow to do a spell and it had backfired. Maybe she'd pissed someone off one too many times and they'd decided to take it out on her years later. Hell, maybe she'd pissed someone off yesterday. She had no way of knowing unless Willow managed to come through with more information than they had now. "So Venus is my favorite. What's yours?"

Thankfully, he accepted her change of subject without a look or comment. Picking up the remote again, he scrolled through a list of what she assumed were coordinates. He touched a button and the telescope shifted itself on quiet gears, refocusing to a new spot in the sky. "This is my favorite."

Once again looking through the eyepiece, she found herself looking at something that definitely wasn't a planet. "What is it?"

"Andromeda Galaxy. The Milky Way's closest neighbor." There was a wistfulness in his voice that brought her head up to stare at him. She didn't ask, didn't need to. He read it on her face. "It's so close to us, on a cosmic scale. And yet we've never been there."

"Kind of a long flight, huh?"

That startled a laugh out of him. "Yeah. A bit."

About to ask him to show her something else, a jaw popping yawn caught her by surprise. "Where did that come from?" She didn't expect an answer, but she got one anyway.

"You've got to admit it's been a long day. We can come back up tomorrow night." Already he was unplugging the remote and reaching for the telescope cover.

She'd have argued if he hadn't made so much sense. There was no need to cram everything into one day. There was always tomorrow. Grabbing one side of the heavy material, she helped him secure it over both the telescope and stand. In a comfortable silence, they climbed off the roof and went back into the house. The cans and bottles they'd abandoned for planets and galaxies were dumped quickly, the few remaining dishes into the washer in even less time.

Slipping off the sweatshirt, Faith made her way down the hall toward their bedroom, limbs growing heavier with every step. All she needed was a few good hours of sleep. The days' events had taken more of a toll on her than a fight with four vampires. Her mental gyrations hadn't had the adrenaline-like effect any battle would have. Tossing the sweatshirt onto a chair by the bed, she paused to stretch her arms above her head, enjoying the pull of each muscle across her abdomen and back. Wow, did that feel good. Releasing her stretch, she saw Jack hesitate in the doorway, his eyes jumping from her to the bed before slowly entering the room.

He reached the side of the bed, his hands clenching and face getting tighter with each step. What was wrong with him? Everything had been fine just a few seconds ago. "Faith, I'll stay in the guest bedroom tonight."

If he'd slapped her it would have shocked her less. "Why? What's wrong with this one?"

"I'm a virtual stranger to you right now. How well are either of us going to sleep?"

Mouth opening to tell him she'd slept next to plenty of strangers before, she stopped the words before they formed. Not so much of a good thing to tell her husband. But her stomach ached at the thought of spending the night alone in their bed without him at her side. "You said this was our house, right?" She waited for his nod. "Then that means this is our bed. I expect you to sleep in it." Without waiting for his response, she fled into the connected bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Heart pounding in her chest, she found what looked like an appropriate soap in one of the cabinets and washed her face and neck with shaking hands. It was up to Jack now. She'd let him know what her preference was.

After she'd finished everything she needed to do she dawdled as long as she could without appearing like she was stalling. Meeting her own eyes in the mirror above the sink, she took a deep breath. Would he still be in there when she walked out?

He was. Sitting on one side of the bed, his jeans and t-shirt had been replaced with what appeared to be larger versions of what she'd worn that morning. He met her grin with one of his own. "I learned a long time ago to not disobey my wife." A flood of relief ran through her entire body as he walked over stand in front of her. "It plays hell on my domestic bliss." Planting a soft kiss on her forehead, he ran a hand through her hair and then disappeared into the bathroom she'd just inhabited.

Her smile didn't get any smaller as she changed into her own t-shirt and boxer getup. After stuffing her clothes into the hamper by the bathroom door, she slipped under the comforter. What was with her? All they were going to do was sleep. Jack's reaction to merely sharing the same space with her had told her that. So why did she feel as if she'd just won a brand new car? The door clicking open drew her eyes. As Jack made his way around the bed she snuggled deeper into the sheets. She was about to spend her first night in bed with her husband. Not a single thing was going to happen. And she couldn't have cared less.

Less than a minute later the overhead light was out and Jack's warm body was taking up space alongside hers. Slowly, giving him time to get used to the idea, Faith slipped her arm over his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. After a stunned moment of complete stillness, he relaxed, one hand coming up to clasp hers, the other curling around her back and waist. Already the beating of his heart was soothing its way through her, pulling her toward sleep.

"You were right. This is much better than the spare bedroom."

The whispered words vibrated in his chest against her arm. She felt her lips twist upward as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Still smiling, she fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart.

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TBC

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	5. Chapter 5

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: My continued appreciate to everyone who has sent any kind of feedback for this story. You guys keep me going on bad writing days. And no, this part isn't as chunky as the last one. Sorry, guys! Again, I can't thank Lynette enough for being beta extraordinaire. You rock, lady! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 5

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Tucking her hand more solidly into his, Faith matched Jack's stride with ease. The moon was high overhead, lighting the quiet street. It was late enough on Monday night that it could almost be called Tuesday and only a couple of cars kept their truck company on the small side street where they'd parked. Jack had insisted it would be better to get to the restaurant later in the evening, saying it wouldn't be so busy. Faith hadn't believed him but had gone along with his theory since she wasn't the one who had to get up for work the next day. For once she was glad to be wrong. 

"This weekend was the most fun I've had in years," she said, only realizing as she spoke how true the words were. Her life had been nothing but Slaying and mayhem and mistakes compounded by Hellmouths and hard-headed stupidity. Jack had shown her a side of life she'd seen others have but had never thought she'd experience. With a hand on his arm, she stopped him, turning him to face her. "Thank you."

A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes curved his lips up. "Any time. What else are not-remembered husbands good for?"

"Don't do that." He was hurt she didn't remember him, she knew without a doubt even though he'd said nothing about it. After Saturday night's successful gathering, they'd spent the next two days in a mellow, absolutely normal, doing nothing special kind of way. A walk in the nearby park holding hands and chatting, grocery shopping where she'd discovered he disliked trolling up the aisles in search of food as much as she did, cleaning up around the house after bargaining for the tasks she hated the least. Hours spent on the roof in the dark cushion of night learning about the sky above and her husband at the same time. And finally dinner at The Blue Star, a trendy, almost bohemian restaurant she hadn't believed Jack would ever step foot in let alone rave about. But once she'd tasted the appetizer, she'd forgotten about the eye-popping décor and her doubts about Jack's choice for dinner.

The only negative so far had been the lack of information from Willow. The witch had called Sunday afternoon with the depressing news. No spell or demon was reputed to deal in sending people or things into the future. Between Willow, Giles and the new Council, over a hundred references had been found for sending someone into the past. The running theory was time was flexible, but the future was always changing depending on a person's decisions throughout each day so there would be no specific moment in time to build a spell around. Faith had understood roughly one in five words of the explanation yet the full meaning hadn't escaped her – no one had a clue what had happened to her. Willow had promised to keep looking and would call back in a couple of days whether she found anything or not. Then she'd told Faith to enjoy the rest of her weekend with her "hunk of a husband" and hung up.

Now, with the taste of their shared dessert still lingering on her tongue, she couldn't let him beat himself up. "This isn't your fault." Keeping one hand on his arm, she forced his eyes to meet hers with the other. She'd always thought that line about the eyes being a window into a person's soul was just so much crap, but over the past three days she'd come to know the truth. Jack's soul was a good one, even though he would have argued himself blue if she said it aloud. Shaking her head slightly, she repeated softly, deliberately, "This isn't your fault."

"Kind of hard not to feel that way." The smile turned self-deprecating, one hand coming up to tug hers away from his face. "I'm not the one with the missing memory."

It was frightening how much she'd come to care for this man in so short a time. He hadn't pushed, hadn't questioned, simply accepted that whatever had happened to her had created a breach between them and had begun working on a bridge to get over it. He really was a good man. "It'll come back," she insisted, forcing a confidence she didn't feel into her voice. A Slayer's life was too mired in upheaval to guarantee anything, but she had to try and erase that look from Jack's eyes. It was tearing a hole straight through her.

Leaning in closer, she pushed up onto her toes, hands freeing themselves to rest against his chest. After a second's hesitation, he bent slightly, eyes intent on hers. When he didn't move any closer, she ran her hands up over his shoulders to grasp his neck and pull him the rest of the way. Their lips met and fire streaked through her blood instantly. Jack inhaled sharply, all hesitancy disappearing at the first contact. His arms wrapped tight around her back, one hand sliding up to dive deep into her hair. Tingling shivers danced across her skin as she opened her mouth, inviting him to intensify the kiss. He took it, tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers.

Far too soon he pulled back, arms still snug around her, the heat of his body burning through her clothes. This time the smile reached his eyes. "Well, at least we haven't lost that."

A low, throaty chuckle slipped out of her and Faith watched his eyes darken even more at the sound. "Maybe we should have done that three days ago."

He dropped another kiss on her lips, this time a quick peck that promised more, and eased away from her. "You would have called me a letch and slapped me."

"Not if you'd kissed me like that," she assured him, telling the absolute truth. Damn, but that man could kiss. He wrapped one hand around hers and tugged her down the street toward the truck another hundred feet away. Her heart pounded and every inch of her skin vibrated with excess awareness. Maybe if she'd been paying more attention to their surroundings instead of the way Jack made her feel she'd have noticed them sooner. But when Jack's body tensed beside hers, all her Slayer alarms finally went off.

Three figures detached themselves from the deep entranceway of a clothes shop, stepping out onto the sidewalk directly in front of them. Even though they looked like they were in their mid-twenties, Faith knew all three were vampires. A moment of confusion had her taking a second look at them with all of her senses. Hadn't Buffy told her there was something about the area that kept demons out? Had the giant bug zapper run out of juice? Because her second look confirmed what her gut was telling her – they were definitely vampires. And there wasn't a lick of wood in sight. But even more problematic was the fact that Jack had no idea what stood in front of them.

"You really don't want to start anything," Jack said, voice hard enough even Faith spared him a glance. What she saw was the man he'd shown her a glimpse of that first day. His face was a cool mask, eyes assessing every inch of the area and the three vampires, body suddenly strung tight and centered, ready for a fight.

Just what the hell did he do in that mountain of his? She cut off the distracting thought when one of the vampires stepped closer. Letting her senses flare open wide, she tracked the movements of the other two without taking her eyes off the leader.

"Oh, I think we do." He smiled, normal human teeth glittering in the streetlight for a brief moment. "Take them."

About to grab Jack's arm and push him behind her, consequences of revealing her secret be damned, she actually stumbled when he pulled away from her to sweep one leg out, tripping the vampire on their left. He went down hard, taking the feet of the other down with him.

"Faith, run!"

She felt him shove her back toward the restaurant before he turned to put himself between her and the three vamps. What was Jack thinking? It was her job to protect him from vampires. Swiveling on her heels quickly, she dropped her purse to free both hands. Why the hell had she not brought a stake with her? She knew better than to get complacent even in a town where no one seemed to know the definition of night life. Without a shred of wood it was about to get interesting.

Adrenaline flooded her veins, tightening her focus. There was no way a vampire was going to lay a single tooth on her husband.

Face shifting into the familiar visage of the demon hidden beneath the human mask, the leader rushed in, one giant leap that planted him in front of Jack in a split second. Before Faith could blink, an arm slashed out and Jack was stumbling back from the inhumanly fast blow. A red haze filled her vision and then she was moving. The leader's body flew against the brick wall of the clothing shop, small cracks appearing where he'd struck. The other two scrambled to their feet only to be knocked down again as the Slayer was unleashed. With a growl, the leader came back for more, this time landing a couple of shots that sent her reeling into a car parked along the sidewalk. She hit the ground with a thump, anger and a growing fear for Jack pushing all pain aside.

"Faith!"

Jack's cry, filled with utter terror, brought an ache to her chest. She had to end this now. There had to be something, anything around she could use as a weapon. A quick glance into the gutter beneath the car she'd been hurled against revealed scattered clusters of pine needles, a cigarette box that had once been white, and a few small tree branches, each thinner than her pinky. Without thinking, she grabbed up the bunch, forming a makeshift stake. This had to work.

Jumping to her feet, she turned to see Jack strike out with a fury of kicks and punches that was worthy of a Slayer. The precision of each blow was backed with a simmering rage that would have enabled him to defeat one of the vampires if he'd had a stake and known what to do with it, but not three at the same time. Stepping up behind one of them, she grabbed his shoulder and shoved the tree branches through his back. The branches cracked but punched through, sending a cloud of dust floating in the air. The second one went just as quickly as the leader finally got through Jack's guard and connected with a right hook that snapped his head back with an audible crack. He crumpled to the ground and didn't move.

For a split second Faith was frozen. No. No, he was fine, her brain screamed in denial. But he still didn't get up. The scrape of a footstep drew her back to the leader. The smile left his face when she turned furious eyes his way.

"Who are you?" The vampire's voice actually shook.

Smiling bitterly, she brandished the broken clump of branches. "I'm the Slayer. And you picked the wrong couple to munch on tonight." His face went white beneath the heavy brow ridges just before he launched himself at her in a futile attack. Fending off the panicked blows, she returned each swing, connecting but unable to get a clear shot at his chest. A moan from behind her sent strength ripping through her body. She grabbed one of the vampire's arms and twisted it behind him, spinning him around. Reaching around with the other hand, she thrust the bundled sticks into his chest, rage and dread adding force to the blow. The vampire disappeared with a sharp cry, dust swirling toward the ground.

Two shaking steps had her kneeling at Jack's side, one hand reaching for his face. "Jack?" A quiet groan answered her. Running her fingers gently along his jaw and up into his hair, she felt for cracks, blood, anything that wasn't supposed to be there. "It's okay. They're gone."

Glazed brown eyes met hers, pain radiating from him in waves. "What was. . . Who are you?"

The doubt in his voice yanked her hand away. It was as if the past three days had never happened. Their kiss had never happened. "I'm Faith."

He struggled to sit up, smothering a gasp of pain. "You can't be my wife. Now who the hell are you?" Kneeling, he faced her dead on, that mask of emptiness hiding his face.

"I am Faith," she repeated, reaching one hand out to him. If she could touch him, he'd know it was her. And then she could try to explain what had just happened, to keep the truth from destroying the feelings three years had built between them. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Before her fingers got anywhere close, he moved. With the speed she'd marveled at both at the house and just a few minutes ago, he grasped her outstretched arm and yanked her off balance. Before she could grab her next breath he had her locked against his body, her back to his chest. She froze, barely breathing, recognizing the deadly hold he had her in. His words merely confirmed what she already knew.

"You have ten seconds to tell me where my wife is or so help me God I will snap your neck."

It's what she imagined hell to sound like: fury filled and uncompromising. And somehow she had to get through to the man underneath. "Jack, it's me. I'm your wife."

The rock steady arms tightened ever so slightly, contrasting sharply with the shaking of his body. "Strike one. My wife doesn't know dick about fighting. How did you switch her? Five seconds."

"I am Faith O'Neill," she said deliberately, careful to make no movement whatsoever. Jack wasn't kidding around. "But I'm the Faith from three years ago, before our paths crossed again."

Every muscle stilled briefly at her back, the arms held firmly in place around her neck and head. "Tell me something only we would know."

"Six years ago I tried to pick you up at a bar. You turned me down and we had dinner." She could feel him thinking it through, running all the angles in his head. "Six years ago my time. I was seventeen."

The arms released from her head with a suddenness that dropped her onto her butt on the sidewalk. Jack scrambled away from her until his back hit the brick wall of the shop, self-loathing and confusion engraved on his face. His eyes closed as he winced, either from the quick motions or the blow to his head finally kicking in.

Inching forward, her heart seized briefly at the tormented look on his face. "It's not your fault." She'd said it earlier, before the vampires had attacked, but this time it had a double meaning. "I don't know why my future self never told you about me, us, whatever, but there was no way you could know." And the other? Jack loved his wife. It was evident in every look, every word, every touch. He'd reacted like a man who was determined to protect what was his, no holds barred and no apologies to be made. Hell, hadn't she just done the same for him? Between the probable concussion and his wife suddenly becoming a martial arts expert in front of his eyes, she figured Jack was due a couple moments of confused lashing out. "I don't blame you for your reaction." She hadn't thought the words would hurt to say.

"I nearly killed you. You have no idea. . ." He trailed off, one hand rising to stop her slow progress toward him. "I could have killed you."

"But you didn't," she whispered, ignoring his intent and grasping the outstretched hand in hers. She squeezed tightly, reassuring herself he was still there, his presence seeping into her flesh. "I'm still with you." Offering a small smile, she nodded toward the truck parked not far down the street. "Can we go home? It's a really long story and I'd rather tell it sitting on our couch."

He didn't reply, just brought his free hand up to gently brush over her cheek. His eyes scanned every millimeter of her face while she held still for his perusal. She was asking him to take a lot on faith. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth at the thought. She was asking him to take Faith.

The smile seemed to galvanize him into action. He nodded and struggled to his feet, letting her support him until he found his balance. They made their way slowly to the truck, grabbing her purse as an afterthought. Jack's unsteady gait worried her more and more with each step, but she knew he wouldn't agree to see a doctor until he'd heard every last word she had to say. Besides, she had more than enough experience treating battle injuries. She could help him just as well as any doctor could. Making sure he was belted in, she shut the door and swiftly crossed to the other side.

How the hell was she going to explain her life?

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TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: I continue to be amazed at the generosity of everyone reading this. Thank you all for the great comments as well as the wonderful guesses as to what happened to Faith. Have no fears, all questions will be answered by the end. And if it weren't for Lynette, you wouldn't be able to read this thing with all little mistakes she catches. Thanks, lady! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 6

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Between Jack's mumbled directions and her memory of the trip to the restaurant, Faith got them back to the house in one piece. She carefully set the big truck in park, shut it off and climbed out. By the time she got around the hood, he already had the door open and was trying to find the driveway with a dangling foot. One hand shooting out to grab his arm before he fell out of the cab, she gave him a worried look. "Hold on a minute. Let me help you." 

"I am fine," he said, each syllable enunciated carefully. Holding him in place for an extra second, she looked him over. Pale, small beads of sweat clinging to his forehead, deep furrows of pain between his eyebrows. Yeah, he was fine all right.

She didn't bother to respond to his stubborn comment directly, merely helped him to the ground and wrapped one arm firmly around his waist. There was no need to pretend she wasn't strong enough to just pick him up and carry him to the house, but she didn't think his head or his pride could handle it at the moment. Instead, she took as much of his weight as his taller frame would let her and guided him as fast as his feet would move up the walk. Fumbling with the unfamiliar keys, she propped him against the side of the house and hurried to work the lock. She tossed her purse and keys in the entryway without a glance to where they landed and got Jack through the door.

The couch was the closest place she could get him sitting down so that's where she took him. He didn't make a sound when she deposited him on the cushions and ran to the cabinet in the bedroom where she'd seen the bandages. There had to be aspirin or Tylenol in there somewhere. There was aspirin, Tylenol, motrin, naproxen, celebrex, codeine, and even a small bottle of oxycodone. Some of the bottles were over the counter while the big stuff was clearly printed with his name and that of the United States Air Force Academy Hosptial. Wow. What did he do in that mountain to need the heavy pharmaceuticals? She knew it wasn't her stash of painkillers.

Grabbing the Tylenol since it seemed to be the least likely of the assortment to have any side effects, she went back to Jack, making a stop in the kitchen for a glass of water and a towel. She set them on the coffee table and kneeled in front of him. His eyes followed her, still slightly dazed. First she needed to check for a concussion. Tilting his head to one side toward the lamp with gentle fingers on his chin, she stared at his pupils, relieved to see them contract slightly. Unfortunately, he winced away as soon as the light hit his eyes. Now she'd have to do it again. "Hold still this time," she ordered, tugging his head back into position. "I'm sure you know how this drill works." She took it as a good sign when he simply glared at her, but didn't yank his head out of her grasp.

Someone must have taken pity on her because his pupils reacted equally, if a little slowly. No concussion at least. She picked up the towel, gently blotting the sweat from his face. "You must really be one thick skulled son of a bitch to keep your head in one piece after getting cracked like that by a vampire." The words were harsh, but the relief in her tone kept them from having any sting.

"Vampire?" It was the first thing he'd said since agreeing to come home with her other than his short insistences that he was fine. It was a step up from the damning silence. But there was one other thing she needed before she got started.

Holding up the water glass and bottle of pills, she waited for him to take them. "Trust me, I know exactly what you're feeling like right now. This will help."

Surprisingly enough, he took the bottle and twisted it open to pour three pills onto his palm. He set the bottle on the table and chugged them down with the full glass of water. She'd been counting on the fact that he'd accept the bottle whole but not the pills alone. The trust she'd been so amazed at having just days ago was hanging by a very thin thread at the moment. It wouldn't take much to sever it completely.

So she backed off, set the towel next to him on the couch and stood to put some room between them. Taking a deep breath, she tried to push down the horrible sinking feeling in her gut. She could do this. Maybe. "What do you want to know first?"

He searched her face, much as he did back on the street, eyes constantly moving. "So you really are Faith?"

"Yes, I am. I just can't remember us." He didn't say a word, only kept watching her with those probing eyes. "The last thing I do remember is walking down an alley at night in Cleveland. And then I woke up in our bed." It was too soon to tell him about Willow and her search for spells and possible time demons. He was going to have enough trouble swallowing the rest of her story as it was.

His eyes closed for a moment, brow tightening slightly before he seemed to collect himself and sit a little straight. "We'll come back to that one later. You said those punks were vampires?"

While his tone didn't imply she was completely off her rocker it was close enough to send a touch of fire through her veins. "Sharp, pointy fangs, bad attitudes, heavy brow ridges, disappear in a cloud of dust when impaled on a bunch of wooden sticks? What would you call them?"

"I was just hoping beating my head against concrete had made me see things." He was awfully calm for someone who'd just been told a fairytale boogeyman was real. "They really did explode into dust?"

She nodded, idly wondering why he wasn't calling the little men in white coats yet. "Every time."

"Great." This time it was his sigh filling the space between them. "That guy, vampire, he seemed to know what you were talking about when you said you were the. . ."

That was one he couldn't seem to say aloud so she did it for him. "Slayer. I'm a Vampire Slayer."

"Uh huh. And what exactly is that?"

Why wasn't he freaking out? This was not the reaction she'd expected. Shouting, cursing, flailing around, all those had appeared in vivid color in her imagination on the drive home. Nothing about sitting calmly on the couch and asking questions had been anywhere present. She almost wished he was shouting. At least then she would know how to respond. "Did you ever notice how I never get sick? No colds, no flu, no sore throats? I seem to heal faster than average? Brightman said it herself, I'm always in perfect health. All benefits of being a Slayer." She didn't bother to tack on anything about the dismally short life expectancy, the life spent constantly injured in one form or another, the horrendous human and demon stains on clothes no washing machine could get out, or any of the other less than pleasant aspects of the job. There would be plenty of time for that later, she hoped.

"You still haven't said what a Slayer is."

Where was Giles when she needed him? She'd never had to explain what she was, what she could do to anyone. Wasn't there a script somewhere for this? "A Slayer is the boogeyman's boogeyman. Boogeygirl. The person who kills the boogeyman." She was a blithering idiot. Looking down for a moment, she almost missed the hint of a lifted corner of one side of Jack's mouth. But the expression vanished within seconds, the blank faced stare returning as if never gone. "Vampires, demons, the occasional werewolf. Anything that preys on humans or wants to remake their own little hell on Earth. The Slayer either kills or neutralizes it. My job was to be the fly in their ointments."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

There was the hurt she'd expected. It ripped the hole wider in her gut, sending guilt pouring through her. "I told you earlier that I don't know. I wish I did. But most people don't take the news too well. Maybe I was afraid of how you'd react."

He fiddled with the towel at his side, nodding absently as if trying to push the pain aside to focus on more important things. "Those guys tonight were fast and very strong." Looking up, he caught her gaze. "And you didn't seem to have any trouble hauling me up the walk just now."

She knew what he was really asking. Moving the empty glass and the bottle of pills from the coffee table to the floor, she studied the knee high table. It was a solid piece of furniture, a gleaming wood that spoke of care and home. Gripping it on one side with both hands, she lifted it easily before walking back a few careful steps. She tilted the table lengthwise, dropped one arm and watched Jack's face shift from blank to disbelieving. "Things usually get too awkward for me to lift before they get too heavy. I'm just not tall enough. Most of the things I have to fight are even faster, stronger and meaner than I am." He watched silently as she set the table back on the floor with the one hand, no hint of any effort on her face.

"That explains how you took those guys down when I got my ass handed to me." He was still too quiet, even the self-directed insult strangely muted. "How did you find out about being this Slayer person? You weren't born like this, were you?"

She didn't take offense at the question. She knew what he meant. "I was called when I was sixteen, but I'd already known about the world of demons for years, training to take the place of the current Slayer whenever it was my time." That didn't come close to describing the torturous years of hiding from her mom and sneaking out to meet her watcher. Or the fact that her mom never even saw the extra bruises that mingled with the ones she'd given Faith herself. "I was almost too old to be called, but apparently that wasn't as big a concern as it should have been."

She'd finally broken the mask, but it wasn't how she'd expected. Frustrated confusion mingled with pain as he waved one hand to halt her. "Called? Trained? You mean there are others out there doing this, this stuff?"

Apparently she wasn't explaining things as well as she thought. How was she expected to give him a lifetime's worth of knowledge in anything less than a week? Even the smallest of details had to be explained. Leaning down, she straightened the coffee table back into its original position and moved to sit in the chair beside the couch. Faith rested her elbows on her knees, meeting his questioning eyes. "It all began before humans walked on Earth. . ."

Jack let her speak almost totally uninterrupted as she did her best to give him as concise a history of the Watcher Council, the Slayer mythos, and demons, vampires and Hellmouths. When she finally stopped, her mouth was dry, her throat was aching and her stomach was knotted even worse than before they'd walked in the house. What was he thinking? She wanted to pry that expression off his face to see what was really going on in his head. She never had been very good at waiting.

"So this Watcher Council," he started slowly, a heat beginning to build up in his eyes. "They use young women who are little more than children to fight monsters?"

She'd honestly expected a question about her sanity or supposed abilities, not anger at the people who'd essentially taken over her life for most of her formative years. Did that mean he believed her? Somehow she didn't think it was that easy. "The system was created so long ago the Council can't even be sure it's got the whole truth of it. All they have are mostly destroyed records from that time."

"Why the hell did they choose girls? Why didn't they do it themselves?"

That's why he was angry? Because the Slayers were girls? No, he wasn't angry. There was so much more than simple anger blazing from his face. "That's the way it's always been. The way we were created."

"But they used kids!"

The outburst rang in the room as he winced back against the couch. Wanting to touch his arm, his hand, his anything, she clenched her fists to keep them from moving. He'd allowed her touch while she was tending to his head, but she didn't think he'd accept anything else from her just yet. "The theory was that girls could handle the power better than boys. They would have less inclination to abuse it. And for the most part they were right." There was no need to mention her own turn to the dark side.

"You said you were sixteen when you were called? Why is that late? Why are you called at different ages?"

The questions ran ever each other, jumbling their meaning together. Jack's anger was still there, just waiting for the moment to leap out at the unexpected. "There's some sort of order. Don't ask me what it is, even the Watchers don't know how Slayers are chosen and they can tell you all sorts of more useless things. One moment you're a normal teenage girl and the next you can throw a man through a wall. Poof."

"So how many Slayers are there? Do you all work together? Is this Watcher Council all over the world?" It seemed Jack was relentless once he was on the trail of something he wanted. A good thing to remember in the future. If they had a future after tonight.

"Well, normally there's only one Slayer at a time. When the current Slayer dies the next is called."

"Dies?"

That was a tone she never wanted aimed in her direction. Ever. "Yeah, dies. This is a dangerous job, Jack." She didn't get any farther.

"Who died for you to be called?"

"Kendra. She only lasted a few months. I never met her." Which was something she'd been grateful for. There was no way she could have done the job if she'd met her predecessor. Too much bad mojo there.

"And before her?"

"Buffy."

Finally something other than boiling anger and that blank mask showed on his face. "Summers? How is she in Cleveland if she's supposed to be dead? And you just told me there was only one Slayer at a time."

How had she ever thought she could explain her insane life and that of her friends? "Buffy was killed at the end of her sophomore year of high school in a fight with one of the big bads. Drowned." She rushed on before he could ask for specifics. "Xander gave her CPR, saved her life. But she was officially gone long enough to activate the next Slayer."

"How many times have you almost been killed?"

Another question she hadn't been expecting. But since the answer wasn't relevant, she didn't bother to try and come up with a lie. "That's not-"

"How many?" It was a roar of sound that brooked no disobedience.

"I stopped counting at fifty." In the first six months.

That shook him, anger draining instantly. His face paled even further, turning a ghastly white that would have given a bleached sheet a run for its money. One hand came up to rub his eyes, the fine trembling not quite hidden by the motion. "Is that why you quit?"

"When I talked to Buffy she said I never told her why." The reminder brought his hand back down, the fingers clenched tight.

"So obviously Buffy knows about this whole other world. Do the rest of them as well?"

"Yeah, they do. They went to high school on top of a Hellmouth. It was kind of hard not to notice." She watched in silence as he fiddled with the towel at his side absently. " Willow's been checking to see if there was something that could erase my memory, a demon or spell or anything, but nothing's come up yet. And there's no record of anyone ever being sent into the future. The past, yes, but she gave me some explanation I didn't understand about why the future would be too difficult to manage."

"She should talk to Carter one of these days," he muttered in an undertone she didn't think she was supposed to hear. Abruptly, Jack pushed himself to his feet, staggering a small step until he found his balance. Halfway to her feet herself, she stopped, letting him do it on his own. "Basically that means we don't have a," he paused, obviously searching for the appropriate word, "supernatural explanation for you missing three years of your life."

"It means we have nothing, supernatural or not. But spells and demons aside, I just don't see myself up and leaving Cleveland, let alone ditching B to make her handle the Hellmouth on her own." And it had been bothering her since Buffy had told her. "Slayers don't get to quit, Jack. Once called you fight until you lose. There's always another demon, another big bad, another master vampire thinking they can take over the world. We can't just stop."

"And yet you did." He paced to the far side of the room before swiveling back. "Unless you kept doing things here?" It was a cross between hurt and accusing and she had no idea which one was better.

"I haven't patrolled here, if that's what you're asking." She hated the fact she sounded defensive, but the perfect life she'd been getting used to was crumbling at her feet. "Buffy says there's some kind of energy field that keeps demons out with the exception of a vampire or two every now and then. I don't know what causes it, none of us do, but I imagine I wasn't too upset by it once I got here." He didn't say anything to that, merely stared at her from across the room. "Slayers don't quit, but we do burn out. If we last long enough." If we don't die. She could see the words float in the air between them. "We're surrounded by death and evil and everything normal people would run shrieking from if they even got a glimpse of our lives. You can't help but be tainted by it, at least a little."

And still he didn't interrupt, just watched her with those eyes that absorbed every word, every emotion betrayed by them. But there was no judgment in them, no disgust. Maybe she could tell him all of it.

Suddenly it was spilling out with no thought. "Did I ever tell you I spent some time in prison?"

"I know all about that. I know about your entire record. Who do you think helped you get that whole mess cleared up?" One hand waved it aside impatiently. "It's over, done, in the past. Remember how we don't talk about that?"

"But this time we have to. The darkness that taints all Slayers to some degree? Well somewhere in all the slaying I got lost in it." Somehow this was harder to say than any of the rest of it. "When I say I got lost, I mean that literally. I got lost in the power, the knowledge that no one could touch me. I was above the law. I was judge, jury and executioner. And it didn't matter that I wasn't dealing with only demons anymore. I nearly killed four people, all of them friends at one time, because I was in so deep. I was out of control. That's the real reason I was in prison."

"You're not the only one to find herself in that pit." His face had softened, the caring she'd come to recognize taking over his features.

But caring and empathy were the last things she deserved. Why couldn't he understand? She was going to have to spell it out for him in small words. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not a good person, Jack. I never have been." And suddenly it wasn't about telling Jack of Slayers and the world of demons. It was about getting feelings out in the open she'd thought she'd dealt with long ago. "That dark place I went to before they locked me up? It's still here, inside me. It's always been here. I could feel it growing again in Cleveland before I woke up in our bed."

"You obviously found a way to beat it." He stepped closer as if to physically show his support, but stopped a few feet short of her chair.

Shaking her head, Faith stood. "I don't think I beat anything. I think I was scared and just ran." Her brain was connecting the dots in a way it never had before and two and two finally made four. "Buffy once told me she was better than I was. Even after all the crap I pulled I never believed her. But she was surrounded by all the same evil as I was and she never fell." Staring blindly in Jack's direction, she no longer saw the room or the man standing in front of her. "They really must have been at the bottom of the barrel when they chose me to be a Slayer."

"Stop right there." His voice was back to instant obedience, breaking her introspection. "I don't care what you've done or even what you think you've done. I know you. And I mean you as in Faith the person. Not the Slayer. I couldn't care less what the Slayer did or didn't do. I care about Faith and who she is right now." He paused, looking away, up at the happy couple above the fireplace. "I've done many things I'm not proud of. Too many, since we're being so honest. And I can't blame all of them on orders or bad decisions by superior officers. I have to live with those decisions. They are part of what formed me into who I am. Your actions back then, but even more important, your actions in the past three years have shaped you into who I know today. The woman I love. My wife. So go ahead and try to tell me who you are."

He was serious. He didn't care about prison or darkness hiding inside. He cared about her. But he was blinded by his emotions. He didn't, couldn't see the real Faith. If he did there was no way he would say those things about her. She jumped up off the couch, hands pushing the heavy weight of her hair from her face. "God, why aren't you angry with me? You should be shouting, hurling things. I lied to you. Don't you get that?"

"Oh, I imagine pissed off's going to come into play eventually," he said, setting the towel down on the table. Standing unmoving, he stared across the short distance, face thoughtful. "Maybe it is shock, I don't know. Maybe it'll all kick in later. I won't deny I'm hurt, not only because you didn't tell me about all of this, but because you kept so much of yourself from me. I could yell, freak out, storm out of here in a rage. Call Brightman to check you out again." He took a hesitant step forward only to stop before it was completed. "But I think you're doing enough kicking for the both of us."

"Stop being so understanding, damn it!"

Before the words had faded from the air, she was trapped against Jack's chest, his arms a band of warm steel across her back. She pushed feebly against him, all her fabulous Slayer strength nonexistent in the face of his total acceptance. "You know what I think?" His voice rumbled through her entire body, accompanying the trembling that started deep in her gut. "I think you took a chance and got out before the bad things started happening again. That's not weakness, Faith. That's strength. And knowing exactly what you can handle." Leaning ever so slightly away from her, he gripped her chin and pulled her eyes up to meet his. The shadows she found there matched hers, tainting his soul, yet they didn't blot out all the light. Somehow he'd kept his hope. "I also think it takes more courage to walk away from everything you know than to stay in a place you know you can't be anymore."

His words shattered the shell that had been slowly cracking around her for months. His face blurred as the tears she'd denied herself for years threatened. How did he do that? How did he reach so far inside her and pull out the truth when she didn't even know it herself?

"I think maybe you didn't tell me about any of this because you wanted to forget it yourself. You wanted us to be as far removed from your old life as you could get it without separating all ties to the people you knew. You said it yourself, Faith – Slayers don't quit. But everyone has a breaking point. Three years ago, I think you were about to hit yours. And then you came and found me."

A more overconfident, self-aggrandizing statement she'd never heard. It was also the truest. Collapsing into his arms, she allowed herself to let go as she'd only done once before, years ago on a rainy night in Los Angeles. She had no idea how long they stood there in their living room, motionless but for the slow stroking of Jack's hand over her back. Eventually, the storm subsided and instead of feeling overwhelmed or drained as she'd expected, she was energized, filled with a lightness she'd never experienced before.

Stepping away from the circle of his arms, Faith wiped her cheeks with uncharacteristically clumsy hands. "So what do we do now?"

"Now?" He gave her a lopsided smile, shrugging slightly. "Now we get some sleep. My head is killing me and I have to go to work tomorrow." He glanced quickly over to the clock on the mantle and winced. "Make that today."

"That's not what I meant."

The smile vanished. "I know. But it's all I've got right now."

She knew not to push any farther just then. They both needed some time to process. "I have to tell you I'm surprised you took the whole vampires are real thing so well. Most people freak out a little bit more." The look he shot her pulled a smile she didn't think she had at the moment. "Okay, a lot more."

"After some of the things I've seen in my life, vampires were relatively easy to swallow." Taking hold of her hand, he tugged her toward the hallway and their room. "Of course the up close and personal introduction might have had something to do with that."

A shiver worked its way down her spine at the memory of him lying in a heap on the ground. "Next time let me handle it."

He didn't respond to the thinly veiled order, merely kept walking. At the door he paused, turning to look down at her. "I expect you to remember how understanding I was tonight the next time I do something stupid."

Squeezing the hand cradling hers, she didn't bother to halt the smile from taking over her face. "Don't worry. I think you're paid up for the next few years."

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TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: Wow! You guys are the best! I never expected such an overwhelming reaction for Part 6. My beta and I went 'round and 'round with it and were never fully satisfied, even with the final result. Thank you for reminding me a piece can really be overanalyzed and first instincts should always be listened to. Everyone wave and send big thanks to Lynette for her awesome beta skills. She is the best! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 7

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The sharp jangle of the phone woke her from a blessedly dreamless sleep. Automatically reaching for the receiver on the nightstand, she blinked when her hand met air where the phone should have been. 

"What?"

Jack's annoyed greeting jolted her back into her surroundings. The phone was on his side of the bed. Nestling back into her pillow, she watched with gritty eyes as Jack sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but in the quiet of the bedroom both sides of the conversation carried clearly to her ears.

"I'm sorry, sir, I know it's early, but we have a problem."

"One that can't wait," he glanced at the clock next to the phone's base station, "four hours? It's three in the morning, Carter. And what are you doing there at this hour anyway? Never mind, I know the answer to that one."

A slightly strained laugh was emitted from the receiver. "Yes, sir. Unfortunately, that issue we've been having with the power fluxuations? It got worse last night. I thought we had it solved, but turned out I was wrong."

"Crap." He flicked on the lamp sitting on the night table and ran one hand roughly over his face. "How many teams?"

"Five."

"All right. I'm on my way." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up and sat perfectly still for a moment. He set the receiver back in its cradle and turned to face Faith. "I have to go in."

Sitting up, she pushed her hair back from her face. "I gathered that. Is it bad?"

"When is it not?"

While the words sounded more ironic than bitter, Faith had the feeling it wasn't something he ever took lightly. She followed him with her eyes as he made his way in the dim glow to the bathroom until the brighter lights over the sink spilled through the open doorway. Taking it as an invitation, she left the bed and walked over to lean against the doorjamb, tugging her shirt down into a more comfortable position. He was fingering the short stubble on his chin, a frown on his face as he stared into the mirror at the discoloration along the left side of his jawline. There was no mistaking the bruise for anything but what it was. How was he going to explain it? Or would he even bother trying? Shaking his head slightly, he grabbed the toothbrush and paste and bent over the sink.

She waited patiently until he finished, her brain coming up with and then discarding questions faster than she would have thought possible. As he tossed the brush back into the holder, she asked the one she thought he'd be able to answer. "Does this happen often?"

"What? Get my butt hauled out of the house at oh dark thirty in the morning?"

"Yeah," she replied even though it hadn't really been a question.

He returned to the bedroom, sparing her a smile as he passed. "More often than I'd like." Sleep clothes were quickly replaced with jeans and a yellow button down shirt he left untucked.

"I hope everything turns out okay." It was a useless platitude, but she felt compelled to say it anyway. If the situation was bad enough for Jack to get called in the middle of the night, she had a feeling things were already past an okay resolution. He sent her another smile that did little to mask the worry in his eyes, tugging on socks and a pair of hiking boots. "Is there anything I can do?" A helpless feeling enveloped her as she watched him getting ready to drive off to some unknown problem. As a Slayer she wasn't used to feeling helpless. She decided she didn't like it one bit.

"Keep your cell on you if you go anywhere today," he said, holding up a finger to stop her before she could tell him that wasn't what she'd meant. Dressed and ready to leave, he walked the few steps to stand in front of her. "I don't care if you are Superwoman."

Going along with his attempt at leaving her with a lighter mood, she rolled her eyes, pulled herself up to her full height and tossed off a snappy salute. "Yes, sir, General, sir."

"Brat," he muttered, tipping her chin up with one hand. He laid a soft kiss on her lips, his mouth warm and gentle. "I'll call you when I get a chance." One final smile and he was out the door.

Standing in the middle of their suddenly too large bedroom, Faith sighed quietly. Not knowing what was going on sucked. She wished she could go with him to help out Sam, Daniel and Teal'c, even if it was only to shout encouragement from the sidelines. A sudden thought sent her out into the hallway after him. "Jack?"

He'd grabbed his jacket and gotten the door open, but stepped back into the house at her call. "Yeah?"

"What are you going to tell the team?"

For a split second he looked like he didn't know what she was talking about. Then the confusion cleared. "It's not my secret to tell, Faith, but I'd think seriously about including them. You'd be surprised how open minded they can be." Only after she nodded did he move back out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Moving to the door, she watched through one of the small windows as he strode down the walk toward his truck. Without thinking, she flung the door open and was halfway across the porch before she felt the chill under her feet. "Hey!" If he was annoyed at her continued interruptions he didn't show it, merely turned from the truck expectantly. "Be careful out there."

He threw his jacket and keys into the cab and jogged back to her. This time his mouth was neither soft nor warm. It blazed through her with the rush of a lightning bolt, his lips demanding, his tongue seeking hers. Matching his heated kiss instinctively, she didn't care they were standing outside on their porch in the chilly night air. All that mattered was his body pressed along the length of hers, the heat of him sizzling its way into her bones. She slid her arms around his back, holding him even tighter to her. Fire snaked along her nerves, tightening her muscles and pooling low in her body. Minutes, hours later he gentled the kiss, easing away to look in her eyes. Smugly happy to see his breathing was as ragged as hers, she could only grin when he stepped away drawing a deep lungful of air. He returned the grin with a cocky one of his own. "I'm always careful."

"Extra careful then," she called after him. She watched from the porch as he pulled out of the driveway, waved and drove away. Only after she couldn't see the taillights any longer did she move to go back into the house. Locking the door behind her, she walked in a daze of sensation to the bedroom, hands absently rubbing the goosebumps covering her arms. Her blood was still on fire from his touch, tiny jolts of electricity tingling down her limbs. She was going to have to decide what to do about the almost overwhelming reaction she had every time Jack touched her. While in the past it hadn't been beyond her to indulge in a night of casual sex with a man she'd just met, Jack wasn't just some guy she'd picked up in a bar. He was her husband and she'd found herself caring about what he thought of her. He'd said it that first night – he was a virtual stranger to her. And even though they'd spent the last three days practically in each other's pockets, what would he think if she indicated she was more than ready to indulge with him? Was it too soon? He'd taken the news of the Slayer business with aplomb, but she figured the rest of his reaction would set in within the next couple days when he had time to really think about all of it and wasn't suffering an almost concussion from a vampire attack. Would he still be as understanding about her deceiving him? And her head was going to explode if she kept bombarding it with questions she had no way of answering at the moment.

With sleep the farthest thing from her mind, she searched the dresser for a pair of sweatpants to ward off the slight chill in the house against her still heated skin. Since she wasn't going to be getting any more rest that night she might as well work on getting what answers she could. Seven minutes and one cup of hot chocolate in hand later, she sat in front of the computer, fingers tapping impatiently as it booted up. She wasn't the hacker Willow was, but she'd learned enough from the witch over the years to find at least the basics of the information she was looking for.

The computer clicked and hummed away as the familiar logo flashed across the screen. Jack had almost twenty more minutes before he reached the Mountain. Would he find the situation better or worse than when Sam had called? Were the five teams he'd asked about injured? Trapped somewhere in the facility? Was Jack himself walking into danger of some kind? She absently sipped from the steaming mug, cursing when the hot liquid scorched over her tongue and down her throat. Damn it, she needed to pay attention and quit borrowing trouble. There was nothing she could do for Jack at the moment and burning her insides to a crisp was only going to make her mad at her own stupidity.

Grabbing the mouse, she clicked on the icon to connect her to the internet. There was more than one way to get information nowadays. Quickly navigating to a search engine, she typed in ' Colorado Springs' and 'newspaper'. If there had been an influx of vampires in the area she'd find something in the local paper. It couldn't just be the Law of Let's Screw with Faith's Life that she and Jack had been attacked last night. Since Buffy had said it was rare for vampires to show up but that it still happened occasionally, there might be something in the papers to let her pinpoint the reason.

She found the local newspaper with no trouble and opened it in its own window, leaving the search engine open. She'd learned a long time ago she didn't have the patience to wait for it to load a second time when she invariably discovered she needed it again. Scrolling over the headlines from the day before, she blew on the cocoa before taking a cautious sip. Logically whatever kept the vampires out of the area drew a large amount of power so if they were braving the city it had to have malfunctioned somehow. Nothing. A power outage of some kind would have been a front page mention. She set the browser to search through past issues and brought the first window back to the top. Replacing 'newspaper' with 'unexplained deaths', she hit enter after a short hesitation and went back to the paper.

No unscheduled losses of power going back almost a year with the exception of storm damages. Okay, that was a bust. Back to deaths. Glancing over far too many that didn't sound anything like a vampire attack, Faith found seven that had possibilities. She noted the dates and locations on a sticky pad and kept searching, a niggling at the back of her mind trying to distract her from the tedious task.

Focus, she ordered herself. Her memory loss and the vampire attack were too closely timed to be a coincidence. There was something she was missing. She needed a better idea of what to search for. She needed a lucky break. She needed Willow.

A glance at the clock at the bottom of the computer screen shocked her. She'd spent over two hours trolling for information only to find the smallest indications of seven potential vampire victims. And it was still too early to call Cleveland. Or was Willow in England this week? Shaking her head to clear it, Faith reached for her mug, surprised it was empty. When had she finished the chocolate? Definitely time for a break.

In the kitchen she rinsed the cup, staring out of the windows above the sink into a darkness that held the smallest hint of dawn. By now Jack was deep underground working to fix whatever had dared to disrupt his Mountain. A smile teased her lips when she realized she thought of Jack's workplace as she did her being the Slayer – starting with a capital letter.

That niggling feeling was back in the corner of her mind. What dot was she not connecting? She let her brain wander as the sky outside ever so slowly lightened to the murky grey of pre-dawn. As the first true ray of sunlight broke over the horizon the thought clicked into place. Sam had said on the phone they'd been experiencing power fluxuations lately. Could Jack's Mountain be the source of the bug zapper, the energy emissions that kept the demons out? No, it couldn't be that straightforward.

She tried to shake the idea out of her head, but the timing was too coincidental to simply dismiss. What did she know about Jack's job? It was deep inside the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, had something to do with deep space radio blah blah, was in the category of he couldn't talk about it, and apparently had been having power issues for a while. And the newspapers wouldn't know about any of it.

Unfortunately, all the pieces lined up too cleanly for it to be just a freak occurrence. Now the question was what did she do about it?

A shrill ring cut the quiet and Faith whipped around, dropping into a crouch before realizing it was merely the phone. Twice in one morning. That didn't bode well for the rest of the day. She considered ignoring it, but remembering Jack had said he would call had her answering by the end of the third ring. "Hello?"

"I woke you up, didn't I?"

Less than half an hour ago she'd been anxious to talk to the witch, but now, hearing her sheepish voice, Faith was sorry it wasn't that of her husbandEM1 . "Hi, Willow. And no, I was already awake."

"At six-thirty in the morning?" She didn't sound like she believed her, but continued on to the reason for her call without making an issue. "I have searched everywhere, Faith. There's nothing. Every single contact I have says it's impossible to send someone into the future."

Sighing quietly, Faith sank down on the couch, actually happy to hear it confirmed. "Then I really have just lost my memory. Or had it taken away."

"That's the only thing we can come up with over here that makes even the smallest amount of sense. There are spells that can remove a person's memory. They're very difficult and take a lot of power. And I mean crazy bad amounts of power. But we can't find any trace of who would have performed one on you. No one's put out any feelers for a hit on a slayer in the last six months. Before that, well, demons just aren't really known for their patience."

And if Willow couldn't find anything there was nothing to be found. Which meant Faith was very likely to never discover what did happen to her. "Thanks for looking, Willow. It was a long shot anyway, I guess."

"We'll keep looking and if anything comes out of Buffy's contacts we'll let you know first thing."

"I'll be here," she said, glad to have at least a few questions answered, even if it was merely to cross them off the list of possibilities. But maybe she could get a few unrelated bits of information to fill in a few holes. "B was telling me about that weird energy field around the town. What do we really know about it? You know how she can kind of skimp on details sometimes."

"Sometimes?" The witch snorted inelegantly, bringing a smile to Faith's face at the familiar sound. "Try all the time if it even remotely resembles research or science." Willow sounded put out, but Faith knew she really wasn't angry or even the slightest bit annoyed. Buffy had her own strengths just like all the other Scoobies, that's what made them such an unbeatable team. "Basically it's just an energy emission, kind of like static electricity. You don't mean to jolt yourself by touching a doorknob, but it happens anyway from built up electricity stored in your body. It has to go somewhere so it jumps from you to the metal."

Faith nearly dropped the phone. She'd actually understood that. "And you don't know what's causing it?"

"The only thing I could ever find was an exceptionally high power draw from NORAD, but since it's a huge complex that deals with satellites and high tech gadgets it really wasn't that unexpected." A small pause filled the receiver. "Did something happen? Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine, Willow. Nothing to worry about." She felt only a little guilty for the partial lie. The vampires last night had been taken care of and she didn't want Willow digging any deeper into that strange energy field before Faith talked to Jack. If she was right, Jack's Mountain had everything to do with it.

"Okay. Well, like I said, we'll call if anything turns up about a memory spell, no matter how unrelated." The witch's voice was quiet, as if she'd let Faith down by not being able to find something that couldn't be found.

"Thanks, but it's been four days. I don't think anything's going to come up."

Willow was kind enough not to agree with her. "Tell Jack I said hi."

"I will. Take care of yourself." After hanging up, Faith stood, staring at the pictures above the fireplace until her eyes burned. So, no spell to undo, no demon to blame and still no returned memory. It was time to start focusing on the future and not the past. Maybe one day she'd get the answers she needed, but until then she wasn't going to ruin the life she'd been handed on a silver platter.

Last night was proof that vampires didn't avoid the Springs completely. She needed to learn the town, take a look at the places the seven victims had been found and search for any possible vampire hideouts. Determination filling her, she headed for the bedroom for a shower and clothes. There wasn't ever going to be a repeat of the night before's sloppiness.

And when she was done with her drive around, she was going to figure out how to approach Jack with her theory.

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TBC

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	8. Chapter 8

See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: I've had such a great time writing this, I can't tell you how happy I am to know you guys are still enjoying it just as much. Lynette, the fab-beta, tells me I don't have to say nice things about her each time. Well get used it, lady! Thanks for all your hard work and patience. (vbg) As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 8

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The seven victims Faith had read about that morning had been found in five different locations, yet when she looked on a map, they all appeared to be centralized around the largest cemetery in the Springs. There had to be a spot somewhere in the rambling area for them to hide during the day, far away from any caretaker and the bright sunlight of the clear skies Colorado was famous for.

She drove carefully through the unfamiliar streets, not wanting to get into an accident on her first day out on her own and dent her pretty little car. The snazzy Jetta Jack had said was hers was nothing she thought she would have chosen at first glance. But the moment she sat in the driver's seat and the engine was purring steadily, she fell in love. The car was, in a word, perfect. It took her to the first site she'd marked on the map without a hitch and waited patiently for her to wander the area, soaking in the surroundings. There were more than enough places for a vampire to skulk about, unfortunately more than she thought she'd find. Returning to the car, she jotted a couple of notes for any future patrols and drove on to the next one.

By lunch she'd visited all of the murder sites. By two in the afternoon she'd cased the larger of the cemeteries and picked out the most likely places for vampires to hide. By five she was back at the house, still waiting for Jack to call. She'd dutifully carried her cell in her jeans pocket, but it hadn't made so much as a peep all day.

The home phone was ringing when she got her key into the front door. Hurriedly flipping the lock, she flung the door open and ran to the cordless on the small table in the living room. When the ringer stopped in mid-tone she could only hope it was because she'd hit the talk button and not that the person had hung up. "Hello?" For once, luck was with her.

"Hey, babe."

It was Jack. Despite the clearly exhausted tone her heart thumped just a little harder in her chest at the endearment. She'd never been one for nicknames, especially of the mushy kind, but this one, coming from Jack's lips, didn't seem half bad at all. "Are you okay? You sound tired."

"Just hearing your voice helps," he answered, neatly avoiding her question. She frowned, wondering if that was something he did on a regular basis when he was at work. "I've got bad news. I've got to stay here tonight. The situation's been resolved, in a way, but things are still a little shaky."

She tried to keep her disappointment from showing in her voice. Jack didn't need to deal with his wife's insecurities in addition to the problems in the Mountain. But it was hard. "I understand. How are the teams you asked Sam about this morning?"

There was a slight pause before he sighed quietly. "They're okay. A few bumps and bruises, but no lasting damage."

"That's good to hear. Did you get Brightman to look at your head?" Somehow she didn't think so.

She was right. "No. It feels a lot better. Hardly even know it got banged up last night."

"Uh huh." If she sounded skeptical she hoped it carried over the phone line to him. She should have made him promise to get checked out before he left.

"Although I did get some curious looks after I shaved."

Remembering the rather spectacular bruising along his jaw even through the whiskers, Faith winced. Without the slight camouflage there would be no hiding it for was it was. "What'd you tell everyone?" She could hear the questions already.

"That's one of the few perks about being The Man," he said smugly. "I don't have to answer questions if I don't feel like it. I can just glare everyone into submission."

A small burst of laughter fell out of her mouth. If that wasn't a classic Jack O'Neill statement she didn't know what was. "When do you think you'll be home?"

"Tomorrow." There was no doubt in his voice. "One night away is too long as it is."

A little thrill of sensation ran down her spine at the words. "I missed you today." It slipped out with no thought, but surprisingly she wasn't embarrassed. It felt as natural as breathing.

"I missed you too, babe." His voice had dropped, growing slightly deeper and more intimate. "What'd you do today?"

"Tooled around town some, getting a feel for the place. Willow called this morning."

A stunned silence filled the space of a full five seconds at her words. "She did? Any news?"

"Just more of the same," she replied quietly. "They can't find anything. No demon. No spell."

"So we go from here, then."

Warmth filled her chest at his instant response. "Yeah. I guess we do."

A voice that wasn't Jack's filtered through the receiver, too faint for her to distinguish the individual words. Then Jack was back. "I'm sorry, babe, I have to go."

"That's okay. Be safe down there." She didn't know how he couldn't be, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"Always," came the confident reply. "I'll call later if I can."

"I'll be here. See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early if I can help it."

The shriek of an alarm blared through the receiver a split second before he hung up. Almost dropping the phone Faith stared down at it, wide-eyed. What the hell was that? And why did it sound like a bad thing? Jack had better come back tomorrow with all his pieces in the same condition as when he'd left her or she was going to kill him. Ignoring the irony of the threat, she returned the phone to its cradle and let out a sigh. What was she going to do to fill the hours until he got home?

An abrupt rumble from her stomach caught her by surprise. Just when had she eaten last? Breakfast? No, she'd wolfed down a poor excuse for a sandwich from a gas station somewhere between murder site four and five. It was past time to fill her belly.

After washing down a plate of leftovers with a glass of water, she tapped her nails on the counter, contemplating her options. She could stay home, watch some TV and be safe. Or she could sharpen a few chunks of wood, wander over to the nearest church for some holy water, check out those hiding places and make sure Jack's power problem didn't get anyone else killed.

Well, she'd never liked TV that much anyway.

In the bedroom, she scanned the closet for appropriate patrolling attire, pausing briefly to run a finger over Jack's neatly ordered row of uniforms with a smile. How had she ever ended up with a military guy? She was going to have to ask him for the whole story one of these days. A glimmer of plastic caught her eye and she stepped over to pull it off the rack. A very familiar pair of black leather pants hung safely underneath the clear plastic, the smallest hint of dust along the top. A smirk lighting up her face, she tossed them over her arm and grabbed a shirt to go with it. It had been far too long since she'd worn those.

The leather fit just a little tighter than she remembered. Apparently it really had been a long time since she'd worn them. With a frown, she pulled on the crimson top, stuffed her feet into her favorite pair of riding boots and stood in front of the mirror. Yeah, that was her reflection all right. Except it wasn't. Stepping closer, she ran her eyes over the image critically, searching for differences to what was supposed to be there. The pants were a little snugger, but not enough to make her think she needed to change. She definitely wasn't going to miss her workout with Sam on Friday. Her hair was longer, reaching down her back in a heavy cascade of waves. Funny she hadn't noticed that before. Maybe it was simply that she'd had long hair all her life so the extra length hadn't really clicked in. But the biggest difference was in her face. Small lines wreathed the corners of her eyes, barely noticeable until she looked. Raising her eyebrows, three horizontal lines gently creased her forehead.

They were subtle, almost imperceptible changes, but she couldn't deny their existence. She really was older.

Stepping back, she gave a critical once-over to her outfit. Yep, patrol worth she was. Tossing off a mock salute, much like the one she'd given Jack early that morning, she turned on her heel and walked out the door. There were some supplies she needed.

An hour later she had three stakes tucked around her person and in her light jacket. One pocket held her cell phone, the ringer wisely turned off, while in the other was a small vial of holy water. She felt bad about the method she'd used to get it, but it was better to be over prepared.

The Jetta locked with a distinctive chirp as she pushed the button on the fob and folded the switchblade-like key into the closed position. She pulled her jacket tighter around her torso, tugging the zipper a little higher. The nights in Colorado were colder than she was used to, the dry heat of the day giving way to chilly darkness without any humidity to keep it bottled up. Checking one last time that her cell was muted, she made her way across the street to the cemetery. True darkness wouldn't fall for another half hour or so, but the shadows cast by the Rocky Mountains towering over the Springs would make it plenty easy for any vampire waiting to sneak out of a shelter.

After a quick check to make sure no one was around, she vaulted the fence, clearing it with a couple of inches to spare. She landed lightly, immediately moving out of the trellis pattern grate of the gate and headed for one of the spots she'd chosen that afternoon. If there was a vampire around, he'd probably be hiding out the daylight right . . .

The door to a small family tomb creaked open, a single head peeking around the edge.

. . . there.

Damn, she was good.

Moving as quickly as she could and still remain silent, Faith circled around the vampire. She scanned in every direction, her eyes constantly moving. There could be another vampire around.

Nothing jumped out at her as she closed in on the figure creeping from shadow to shadow. He never had a clue someone was behind him until she collided with his back and shoved him face-first into the cold stone of a seven foot granite pillar marker. Moving quickly while he was stunned, she twisted one arm behind his back, lifting him onto his toes and crushing him against the hard surface. "I have questions. You're going to give me answers."

The vampire struggled briefly to throw her off, but gave up with a shriek when she wrenched his wrist even higher up his back. Voice filled with an impotent fury, he spat out, "I don't have to give you anything."

"You're right. I could just stake you and find me a demon that's willing to be a little more helpful." To emphasize her words, she tugged the stake from her waistband and tapped it on the vampire's neck, the point clearly in his line of sight.

The vampire deflated without another protest. "What do you want to know?"

Vaguely disappointed by the ease of her victory, Faith didn't allow her grip to relax the smallest iota. "How many more of you are here?"

"Just three, but I haven't seen them for a couple of nights. They might have split by now. We're not real big on togetherness."

"Why did you pick this town?" She wasn't going to give him time to think about his answers. The faster she shot them out, the more truth she'd get in return.

"No competition to deal with. And if you can stomach the weird buzz in your bones, the lack of a Slayer makes this prime hunting ground. Unlike everywhere else nowadays."

The last bit was definitely bitter and Faith didn't restrain her smile. Score one more for Willow. "I want to know about the buzz. Do you know what it is?"

"No," the vampire said, starting to shrug before he remembered his arm was held securely behind his back. "You start to feel it about two miles outside of Colorado Springs. Whatever it is vibrates in your bones, very uncomfortable, painful really."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Every now and then the rattle drops. It doesn't ring anymore. And some of us are more resistant to it to begin with."

"Lucky you." While not good news for her, it did fill in a couple of gaps in her long list of unanswered questions. "Now what's this about no Slayer?"

"There isn't. Never has been. Everyone knows that."

She felt a grin pull at her lips and knew it wasn't a pleasant one. "There is now. And this is my town. You're going to pass the word for me."

"You're just going to let me go?"

"There's no 'just' about it. You're now on a mission for me. You have one night to get out of town. If any human dies in the Springs for the next forty-eight hours in a way I could even mistake for a vampire attack, I'm coming after you. I don't care if you're in California by then. I want every demon in four states to know. Stay out of my town. This Slayer's not going anywhere."

"What if I don't feel like passing on your little message?"

"I'll stake you and find a demon who will." The unequivocal emptiness in her voice did more to convince than her words. The vampire nodded frantically, what little she could see of his face a panicked mask of agreement. With one last twist of his arm she stepped back, ready for any lingering hints of defiance or stupidity. But the vampire simply turned slowly to look her in the eyes.

"And what specific Slayer am I spreading the good news for?"

She gave him a glare for the sarcasm, but didn't call him on it. "Faith." She'd never seen a vampire blanch before and if she hadn't witnessed it with her own two eyes she wouldn't have believed it. Apparently, he'd heard of her. "Make sure everyone knows. Weird buzz in the bones or not. Any demon shows fang around here and they'll find the short end of this before they can even think about dinner." She waved the stake for emphasis. "Now get out of here. Dawn comes early in the Springs."

He bolted into the darkness without another word. She felt a little guilty for letting him live, knowing he'd kill someone as soon as he made it out of the city limits, but she couldn't take out an add in the classifieds and this truly was the quickest way to get the word out on the demon grapevine. With a sigh, Faith tucked the stake back into place in her waistband. There was still a whole cemetery to canvass.

Five hours later, she sank into the Jetta's driver's seat with a sigh. Her messenger vampire had been telling the truth – there had been just the four of them. If any demon managed to escape her exceptionally thorough patrol of the city, she would hang up her stakes in disgrace. She turned the key a little too harshly at the thought and the engine leaped to life.

The drive back to the house was over too quickly, her brain still full of the information she'd learned and her body still coming down from the familiar high of patrolling, lack of action notwithstanding. Quickly checking for messages and finding none, she tossed her jacket and keys onto the bed. She stood motionless at the foot, eyeing the comforter. She wasn't tired, but knew if she didn't at least try to sleep she'd spend the whole night on the couch staring at the wall. It was a habit she was still trying to break years after her time in prison.

After stowing the stakes and holy water in the closet, Faith showered leisurely, allowing the hot water to sooth the remaining adrenaline from her muscles. Minty fresh teeth and towel dried hair later, she was buried under the comforter, curled onto her side.

The bed was just the right mix of soft and firm, the comforter was a pleasant weight and the room was dark and quiet. Everything she could have asked for in a bedroom. And yet something was still missing. Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling, eyes adjusting automatically to the dim light bleeding through the curtained windows.

It was too silent, too empty. The steady rhythm of a heart beating under her ear, the gentle motion of lungs rising and falling under her arm, they were missing. And, she realized with a moment of blind panic quickly shoved down, they were necessary.

No light bulb went off, no bolt of lightning struck, yet she knew it down deep inside. Faith had gone and done the impossible. She'd fallen in love with her husband.

Just three nights falling asleep in his arms and she was hooked, addicted. Three days spent with his sharp humor, his unconscious caresses, his little husbandly gestures and, most importantly, his unstinting belief in her, despite the worst possible introduction to her secret, had broken through every last plate of her formidable armor.

She lay unmoving in the dark, eyes staring blindly, body floating in a numb haze. Wasn't she supposed to feel a sense of euphoria? Maybe even a giddy happiness? Though she'd never experienced either emotion in her life, she was pretty sure the petrified feeling coursing through her veins couldn't be them. No, this was more like the first time she'd faced a vampire on her own. Her pulse thudded through every cell of her body, helping rather than hindering the floating sensation. And even though Jack was miles away physically, she felt naked, stripped of all defenses.

Was this really what love was supposed to be? A fear so bone deep she couldn't move? A baring of her soul, an inability to hide anything of herself – even the deep, dark ugly parts?

Faith forced one arm up to cover her eyes and drew three full breaths slowly, in and out, to calm her racing heart. There wasn't anything to be scared of. Really. Jack had told her he loved her. They were already married. She had no reason to worry.

Yet it was long into the darkest part of the night before she finally fell into a fitful slumber.

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TBC

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	9. Chapter 9

See Part 1 for full disclaimers and story details

Content Warnings: adult situations and themes

Author's Notes: After much gnashing of teeth, throwing up of hands and frantic emailing with my beta, I decided to post this version of Part 9. Every time I tried to take things out, Lynette would tell me to put them back in. In the end, I have to agree with her assessment. Please see the end of Part 9 for additional Author's Notes.

To the readers who've been with me from the beginning – You're the best! To the ones who've just joined us – Thanks for taking a chance on this little fic and its highly unusual pairing. Every one of you keep me writing! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 9

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By the time Wednesday night rolled around, Faith still hadn't talked to Jack, still hadn't asked any of the important questions she'd come up with the day before, despite the fact he had arrived home much earlier than she'd expected. She fiddled with her fork, staring at her barely touched food, her stomach rebelling at the little she'd managed to force down. Her realization the night before had disrupted her normally unshakeable ability to concentrate. Once she was focused on a task she had the tenacity of a snake, but today had turned into one half started thing after another. Dinner had been no exception.

"Hey," Jack called across the short distance of the table. "Babe, you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine," she answered automatically, eyes darting anywhere but up to meet his. She stood, unable to take the smell of tortellini any longer, grabbed her plate and headed for the sink. Her neck prickled as his eyes followed her, the concern she knew she'd see in them making her feel even worse. It wasn't his fault she was off-kilter. Well, it was, but only indirectly.

"Faith."

Her name was all he said, his tone quiet and not at all accusing, but it struck with the force of a troll hammer. She set the plate in the sink and turned back to face him, leaning against the counter. Maybe if she got one of the issues out of the way the other would just fix itself. Even as the thought coalesced, she knew it wouldn't be that easy, but she didn't have that many options to choose from. Swallowing roughly, she met his eyes for a brief moment before crossing her arms over her chest. A tiny part of her brain snickered at the defensive gesture and she squashed it ruthlessly. "Remember I told you about that weird energy field that keeps the assorted demons and vampires out of the Springs?" When he nodded, she rushed on, not giving him a chance to speak. "I did some research on the computer yesterday and a couple of things popped up that made a little too much sense."

"I'm guessing this has something to do with why we were attacked the other night." He stood, focusing all his attention on her, hands tucked down into his pockets. "You figured it out?"

"I think so." She straightened, pushing away from the counter and took a deep breath. "I think it's your job, your Mountain." He drew back with a frown, but didn't say anything. " Willow explained it like a bleed over effect. It's not intentional, it just happens because of leftover energy. Whatever's going on down there is creating this massive energy field that encompasses the whole town. She thought it was from NORAD, but now I'm not so sure of that." She had to tell him the rest of it, but the words stuck in her throat. Finally looking up, she met his eyes and tried one more time. "I went out on patrol last night. You'd said whatever was wrong down there wasn't really fixed, which meant if my theory was right then there might be more vampires out there." He didn't appear to be upset, but he didn't look happy either, his face not quite the blank mask she knew he had stored away. Unsure if the expression was because of her theory or because she'd gone out on patrol, she pushed on before she gave herself time to give up and run. "I found one. He confirmed it was the energy that kept them out of town, that every now and then it disappeared and some of them braved the pain for the easy meals."

"And you believed him?"

"I gave him a really good reason not to lie to me." A fleeting smile passed over his face before disappearing as if it never existed. "Look, I heard what Sam said last night on the phone. I didn't mean to, it just happened. I know the problems you've been having down there are power related. These latest failures allowed the four vampires to get into the Springs." There. It was said, for whatever good it would do.

An awful silence filled the kitchen for a horrible moment before he spoke. "What do you expect me to say?"

"Nothing. Anything. I don't know. Crap," she muttered, shoving her hands through her hair, annoyed with herself and wishing he would give her something more to work with. "I know I'm screwing this up, but bear with me, okay?" Nodding, he watched silently as she paced away to the far end of the kitchen before turning around. "Your job is hush-hush and you can't talk about it. I know that, and truthfully I don't care what it is you do as long as you're not experimenting on demons or creating evil cyborg monsters. Don't ask," she advised when his eyebrows rose. "Too long a story for tonight. But whatever it is you guys are doing needs a whole bunch of power and it's keeping the vampires, and every other demon, away. Score one for the secret military people."

That tiny smile made another appearance, this time settling on his lips. A very small thread of tension leaked away at the expression. He turned to set his hip against the table, eyes never leaving hers.

"While I was digging around for unexplained deaths, the usual flag for demons in any town, I found seven that had indications of vampire attacks. I visited all of the sites yesterday. They're all perfect places for vampire killings. I have the dates listed on a sheet by the computer. I need you to verify if your power was going wonky around those times."

Thankfully, Jack didn't give her one look to indicate he thought she was crazy. If his face was anything to go by, he wasn't dismissing her and her outlandish theory without thought. "I'd have to talk to Carter. She's got the head for those things. But I can't give you any details. I shouldn't even be telling you this, no matter how inconsequential it may seem to you."

"Look, I don't want to know and I don't need to know what it is you do. But I'm asking you to let me know when anything happens to affect your power. Those seven people didn't need to die. If I'd been patrolling during your power outages I might have been able to take out the vampires before they killed anyone. I have to live with their deaths because I was too afraid to tell you the truth." She met his gaze solidly. If he couldn't accept what she was asking and couldn't agree to her request, all the understanding about lies of omission and missing memory wasn't going to mean a thing. "But I don't have to let anyone else die. Not if you'll help me."

Silence fell between them, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound to interrupt their unblinking stares. With a sigh, Jack stepped away from the table to reach for her hands. She followed his gaze down to their joined hands, both tanned, both scarred, both carrying a ring of promise and union. Lifting her eyes, she saw him swallow, continuing to stare down between them.

"I've thought about this a lot over the last two days," he said quietly. "And I can't really blame you for not telling me about the whole Slayer business." Meeting her eyes, he gave a wry smile. "I have too many secrets of my own that I can't tell you about. Some I'd even love to share. And if I said the idea of you going off to hunt those things, those vampires, made me happy, I'd be lying. In fact, if it were up to me you'd never face one again." Her heart sank slowly with each word. There was no hope for them if he couldn't accept that she had to do this. Tugging her hands away from the warmth of his, she took a small step back. He finally looked up, his eyes holding a fire she had no name for. "But I understand all about not wanting more deaths on your conscience. More importantly, I love you. Extra bits and all. If you tell me this is something you have to do, then I'll respect your decision."

The vise around her chest loosened, allowing her to breathe again. "You'll tell me what you can? And you won't argue when I have to disappear at all sorts of strange hours?" The irony of the question didn't hit until Jack smiled, one eyebrow quirking upward. "Okay, so that one's not an issue. What about when I get hurt? It's going to happen."

His face tightened slightly, eyes narrowing as one finger trailed up her right arm, pushing the loose sleeve of her shirt out of the way. A healing cut stood out against her tanned skin. It was such a minor wound she hadn't even noticed its presence. Apparently, Jack had. She must have scratched herself on the car the vampire had knocked her into on Monday night. "And how often can I look forward to that?"

"Here in the Springs?" She thought quickly, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Not too often. I'll only be dealing with vampires."

"Uh huh." She bit her tongue on the inelegant snort at his perfect match of her tone the day before, wondering if he'd done it consciously. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I'm always careful."

"Extra careful then."

This time she knew it was on purpose. Reaching forward, she took his hands back in hers. "I don't know why or how I let it go for so long without doing anything. But now that you do know, I can't just let the vampires have free reign when the energy field is down. I can't."

After a heavy sigh that lifted his shoulders, he nodded. "One more requirement." Waiting patiently, she met his gaze solidly. "Be completely honest. If you think you're going to need help, you tell me. I might not be imbued with special powers, but I'm not useless in a fight either."

Tugging him closer, she dropped his hands to wrap her arms tight around his back. "I don't deserve you." It was a mere whisper of sound and all she could force out. Jack held her close, arms a band of steel she had no desire to break. The warmth of his body seeped into her, melting her muscles.

"Now that that's out of the way," he said, his voice a soft rumble in her ear. "You want to tell me what's really bothering you?"

She froze at the question, her heartbeat kicking up once again. How did he know? Was she that transparent? Mouth instantly dry, she let him hold her tight, barely able to breathe. "Did you mean what you said?" That couldn't be her voice, could it? Thin and thready and vaguely childlike.

"I won't interfere with your Slayer business."

"No. I meant the part where you said you loved me." She had never felt so insecure, so out of her element.

His fingers were suddenly beneath her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his. "You're my wife, Faith." The simple answer was more than enough to start her heart thudding against her ribs. "Did something happen while I was gone?" he asked, his voice turning fierce.

"No," she repeated, a strange tingling sensation flowing down her limbs, mixing with the warmth of his body still against hers. "Not really. I just," she stopped, jaw working but no sound coming out. Maybe if she went at it from a different angle the words would just slip out. She didn't have any experience to fall back on and honestly didn't know if she had the courage to say it aloud. Yet Jack deserved to hear it from her lips. "I know I only have the last few days up here in my head and nothing in my life to compare it to, but somehow I managed to fall in love you."

He froze for a split second before a grin took over his face, his eyes darkening to a shade just lighter than black. "Now that's not what I'd call a problem." Before she could get a word out, his mouth had captured hers hungrily, igniting the embers he'd left smoldering inside her the day before.

Arching up into the curve of his body, Faith knew she was going to burst into a million pieces any second. Every cell was on fire, heat burning through her clothes everywhere their bodies met. His tongue stroked roughly against hers, drawing a low growl out of her throat. Her arms tightened around his back, fingers aching for the feel of skin instead of cotton. Tugging his shirt up out of the way, she swept her hands over the broad plane of his back, his muscles tensing at the contact. His body shuddered against hers, one hand digging into her hair to hold her head still for his assault on her senses.

Abruptly, his mouth left hers to trail over her jaw line, the air of the kitchen a sudden cold shock on her lips. Tiny explosions flooded down her spine at each of his nipping little bites, settling deep within her gut. Her head fell back limply into his supporting hand, allowing him full access to her neck. Delicious shivers radiated outward from his lips as the hand he'd held at the small of her back pushed her offending shirt out of the way to grasp her waist, her oblique muscles quivering at the contact. So intent was she on his slowly moving fingers along the sensitive skin of her waist and lower back, that she only had a split second's warning from the heat of his breath before his teeth gently bit down at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Her body gave one heaving pulse, her eyes whiting out behind closed eyelids for a moment that seemed to last forever. Finally, she was able to drag air into her lungs and open her eyes, her racing heartbeat pounding low and hard. Glancing up to meet Jack's glazed eyes as he stared down at her, the breath she'd just managed to gasp in stalled on the way out. An expression she could only call devilry covered his face, small beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. "That's not fair, you know."

"What's not fair?" he asked in a slightly hoarse tone, his wandering hand trailing down to tuck fingertips under the waistband of her jeans. He pressed gently but firmly at the small of her back, causing her eyes to flutter shut again at the feel of him.

She couldn't keep a thought in her head, let alone force her brain to work out an answer with him pressed up tight against her. "I can't think when you do that."

Bending swiftly, he kissed her again, tongue playfully darting in and out of her mouth. His chuckle, filled with masculine pride, vibrated its way along her lips. "Sorry." The apology lost all meaning when spoken in such a smug way, the grin he wore speaking the truth for him. "What's not fair?" he repeated, loosening his hold on her a fraction of an inch.

"You've got three years of experience in turning me on. I have no idea what you like." She didn't feel even a hint of embarrassment at her straightforwardness. If Jack couldn't tell she wanted him, they had more issues than tiny secrets to deal with.

He nodded slowly, that devil's grin growing even wider. "True. But I'm going to have an awful lot of fun while you relearn."

Returning the smile, Faith flexed her fingers experimentally against the smooth skin of his back. "Then I suppose it's time for lesson number one." She curled her nails into his skin, raking them slowly and carefully down his spine just hard enough to leave tiny impressions. With a sharply indrawn breath, his head fell back, hand clenching at her back. "I'll put that one down in the yes column."

Wide eyes met hers, his hand keeping their bodies held together. "Oh yeah," it was a mere gasp of sound, "you can do that." He searched her face, right hand moving from her hair to cup her cheek. "I don't want to push you, but I've got to ask how far you want this to go tonight."

Unbearably touched by his lack of presumption, her heart settled the matter in an instant. Jack would never intentionally hurt her. A tiny voice whispered from deep inside, a voice she'd never heard before. With Jack it was okay to hide nothing, to let him see all of her, even the darkest parts. Setting her fear of true intimacy aside – the emotional one, not the easily mistaken physical aspect – she took his hand in hers. She didn't say a word, just stepped out of the circle of his arms and, walking backwards, tugged him toward the kitchen door, eyes never leaving his.

Comprehension flooded his face in a quick flush of color, his hand giving a quick squeeze of firm pressure. Somehow she led him into the bedroom without tripping or stumbling into a wall, although she had no idea how since she never took her gaze from the intent look on his face. Dropping his hand when they reached the foot of the bed, she slipped the five tiny buttons loose and let her shirt slide from her shoulders to land on the ground in a puddle of blue fabric. Jack stepped closer and trailed one finger down the center of her chest, along her abdomen to stop at the button of her jeans.

Nodding at his unspoken question, she reached behind her back and found the hooks on her bra. The zipper grated quietly down as she loosened the catch, his fingers skimming ever so lightly over her to send tiny shivers radiating outward and inward. Shrugging the cotton and lace down her arms, she let it fall to join her shirt, forgotten. His eyes never leaving hers, one hand stroked up her torso to cup her gently. She tried to stay focused on him, but his thumb rubbing lightly over the hypersensitive flesh stole her attention, electric shocks shooting from the tip of her breast straight down to her core. Heavy, aching pulses began beating low and hard. And yet his slow caress didn't stop.

Forcing her eyes to open, her lids felt weighted, arousal filling every cell of her body. She grasped the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up his chest. She wanted skin, needed to feel his body pressed all along the length of hers. Ducking swiftly, he helped her get rid of the shirt, hands returning to meet hers at the open top of her jeans. As one they pushed them down, taking her panties with them, leaving her totally nude, open to his gaze. Without a pause, Jack's pants followed and they stepped clear of the pile of clothes.

The last rays of sunlight barely touched the room through the curtains, an intimate shelter where only the two of them existed. Faith stepped back, wanting to enjoy her first true moments of her naked husband and when he saw her eyes roving over his body, he stood still for her perusal. Long, lean limbs, muscled without being showy, a scattering of hair along his chest, and an abdomen that showed he cared about his fitness but wasn't obsessed by it. Not perfect, and yet he was. "Not bad for an old guy."

He chuckled, taking the two steps toward her to grasp her hips. "For a cradle robbing Air Force flyboy, I could have chosen worsem1 ."

"Hey!" She frowned up at him, not the least bit serious. With his body tight and pressed against hers, words were quickly losing any importance in her brain. "Talk like that will get you nowhere."

"And what will this get me?" Not waiting for her reply, he dipped his head and kissed her breast, nipping it sharply. She let a shuddering sigh out through her teeth, the wet warmth of his tongue curling things deep inside. Placing a hand in the short hair at the back of his head Faith urged him silently on. His breath was hot on her sensitized skin. Then he bit down.

With a ragged cry, her legs collapsed under her. Jack caught her, tossing the comforter aside with one hand, easing them both down onto the side of the bed and ran one hand possessively over her side to her waist. Sucking in a deep breath, she met his eyes, the pleased look she found there sending another quick pulse down her middle. "That, husband of mine, will get you anything you want."

Still grinning, he pushed her back onto the bed. "Let me see what else I can come up with." Without waiting for her to tell him she didn't need anything else, his mouth was on hers, tongue stroking long and hard while one hand cupped her breast. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her body shifting restlessly against the bed. He left her mouth to trail soft kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, and settled over her breast again. Hand holding her still for his mouth, he kissed it, a little rougher than before, but always gentle, never rushed.

The slow, careful caresses built on each other, making her almost hum with pleasure. His hand left her breast, sweeping down her stomach to rest on her thigh. He was going to drive her mad if he didn't do something soon. She couldn't stay on the cusp of such overwhelming sensations forever. Another gentle tug on her breast sent lightning shooting straight to her core. When she could speak again, she leaned up on her elbows, meeting his eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?"

A wicked grin played over his features, the look alone enough to stroke through her body. "I know exactly how much you can take." He must have seen something of her impatience in her face because he knelt beside her and leaned down, cupping her face with both hands. "Let me do this, just let me love you."

She froze, body throbbing for completion, his hands burning against her face, his eyes softly pleading. Jack was laid bare before her, all defenses tossed aside, his soul open to her every scrutiny. Ignoring her own need, she pushed up to kiss him. He met her halfway, lips both gentle and yet demanding at the same time. And then she lay back, trusting him as she'd never done before. She'd always been the aggressor during sex, the dominant, taking control until she'd had her fill, her style rough and quick. Oh, her partners had enjoyed themselves, she had no doubt, but she hadn't much cared whether they had or not in her single minded pursuit of her own fulfillment. Now, it was suddenly imperative Jack was fully satisfied and that meant she had to let go, let him lead the way in this completely.

Tucking her hands behind her head, she took a deep breath, not lost to his eyes following the rise and fall of her chest. "I'm all yours." Nervousness calmed the throbbing of her body slightly, cooling the ardor threatening to overwhelm her.

He shook his head slowly, gaze moving back to hers. "No, we belong to each other." Not giving her time to respond, his hands returned to her body, stroking, teasing, finding parts that twitched and made her writhe on the bed. Soon she was lost in a tidal wave of sensation, every nerve ending tingling uncontrollably. Her hands, long since past the point of remaining motionless, gripped the sheet, crumpling it in her fists. Shifting restlessly, her over-sensitized skin burned everywhere it brushed against him, each touch pushing her ever closer to completion.

Suddenly, his hands disappeared, their loss leaving her gasping, bereft. Her body hummed, her heartbeat thrumming directly into her center. Faith raised heavy lids, eyes glazed and filled with passion. Before she could focus enough to see what he was doing, his mouth grazed the underside of her breast. A moan broke from her throat at the wet heat. Nipping small bites down her abdomen, he soothed the gentle hurts with open-mouthed kisses and slow swipes of his tongue. He kissed the scar on the lower right side of her belly, the old wound strangely reactive, bolts of fire shooting from the area to lodge in her limbs. And still he kept moving, his mouth leaving trails of sensation in its wake.

She didn't think she could take much more of his torment. Her body was screaming for release. Swallowing dryly to ask Jack for help, the words died instantly when his hot breath on her skin pushed her over the edge.

The world around her exploded. Bright spots of light flashed over her eyelids, leaving tiny floating blobs in her vision. Half expecting to see her body glowing, Faith met his eyes over the length of her torso. "You really are trying to kill me." Her voice was a breathless semblance of itself, one she'd never heard.

Moving upward to press his body over hers, Jack just smiled, settling comfortably between her legs. He kissed her forehead, each cheek, her nose and finally her lips, a soft touch directly at odds with her furiously pumping blood. "Never happen."

For a second she couldn't remember what she'd said to elicit his words. And then she wasn't thinking at all as her body curled to match his gentle thrust. Breath freezing in her lungs, she wrapped her legs around him, encouraging him. He held her eyes with his and sank into her. The sensation had her arching her back, automatically seeking more.

With a ragged groan, he pushed up on his forearms and began to move. She struggled to stay with him, to hold back, to match his unhurried, unwavering rhythm, but the pressure built deep inside, teased her, called her. Jack held himself still, pushing high and tight, his face a mask of ecstasy and wonder.

"Jack," she pleaded, voice hoarse, body throbbing, suspended between total pleasure and simply too much.

Crying out, he gave one final push, shattering them both. Rapture flung her head back and she groaned, wanting to make the incredible feeling last forever.

Breath heaving from his lungs, Jack collapsed, slightly off center, head turned into her neck. She concentrated on breathing, on the feelings he drew out of her so easily. Maybe it was because she was with Jack, maybe it was because she loved him, but she'd never experienced anything like their joining before. She'd had sex, many times with many different guys, maybe too many guys, but what they'd just done was so much more than simple sex. It had been a total sharing, transforming love into a physical reality.

"Is it always like this with us?" she asked, voice breathless and sounding all too well-pleasured.

He nodded against her neck, either not having the strength or ability to lift his head. If he felt anything like she did, it was both. "Most of the time."

"How are we still alive? And why do we ever leave the house?" She was almost serious.

Chuckling quietly, he pushed back up on his elbows. His eyes closed briefly, a deep breath easing from his nose. Bending down, he captured her lips, mouth open and possessive. Even sated as she was, he had the power to send little sparks down her spine. He eased off of her gently and dropped another quick kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back in a second."

She watched as he went into the bathroom, admiring the unobstructed view of his backside. When her cheeks gave a twitch, she finally felt the broad grin that had taken over her face. Life was perfect. Jack was perfect. Her body gave one last pulse of pleasure, a dim echo of the intense feelings from mere minutes ago. Sighing quietly, she wondered how she'd ever gotten so lucky as to find, literally, the perfect man for her, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of her mind telling her she was turning into a sentimental sap. She was too happy care.

The sound of running water called her from her thoughts. Moments later, Jack came back into the bedroom, a washcloth in one hand, a hand towel in the other. To her mortification, she felt a blush creep up her neck and heat her cheeks. No man had ever thought about the 'after' part before. Too stunned to know whether she wanted to protest or not, she could only watch, silent, as he used the warm washcloth on her, gently wiping along her skin.

It was obvious to even her untrained eye he'd performed the action before. What she'd always thought of as a bothersome byproduct of sex, he'd turned into a caring gesture with one simple act. Her throat tightened, the embarrassment fading as her eyes followed his every move. Switching the washcloth for the towel, he patted her damp skin. He leaned back, hands full of terry cloth, and made to get up. Reaching out before he got an inch off the bed, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. She couldn't express the feelings coursing through her, had no words to properly convey all he invoked, yet she tried to put it into the kiss. All the tenderness she'd never before experienced, all the ferocity of the emotions, new and frightening, she poured it into him, hoping he'd understand.

When she sat back, his face was serious, the gleam in his eyes telling her he'd gotten it, every last bit. "Don't go anywhere." In less than a minute he was back, climbing onto the bed beside her. Tugging the sheet and comforter up to cover them, he cuddled in close behind her, his body cradling from her shoulders to her feet. One arm wrapped possessively over her waist, the other pillowing her head. Warmed inside and out, Faith relished the feel of his naked body. She'd woken Saturday morning in shorts and a t-shirt so she had an idea they didn't sleep in the buff that often. An idea she was going to encourage at every opportunity.

His hand wandered lightly over her abdomen in the dark, as if he simply couldn't help himself. Unerringly, his fingers found and traced gently over the three inch scar on her belly. "I take it this isn't really a surgery scar." His voice was quiet, inviting her to answer even though it hadn't been a question.

"Sort of." The bedroom enveloped them in a secure little cocoon, one where nothing could harm her. Not memories, not fear, not self-recriminations. "During B's senior year, about eight months after I first met you, I tried to kill her. She won." He didn't say anything, just continued the soft back and forth motion over the scar. The words didn't choke her as she'd always believed they would. They flowed out, one after another without thought. "I'd done horrible things to her and all of the others and she told me she would do it, she'd kill me. But even at the end, after she stabbed me and before I jumped off the roof, I knew she wouldn't do it, wouldn't finish the job. I spent the next year in a coma and three after that in prison."

His silence didn't judge, didn't damn her. Instead, he laid a gentle kiss on her neck, placing his palm directly over the reminder of her spiral into darkness.

"I had a lot of time to think in there, being isolated like the dangerous criminal I was." The words were calm, as if someone else was speaking them. "At the time I wanted B to end it all. I was too much of a coward to do it myself so I pushed her as far as I could for months. I pushed everyone around me. But I could never push them hard enough to finish it." He tucked her closer into the curve of his body, giving a mute support. "I still don't know what they saw in me that was redeemable, but I'm finally glad they did."

"You walked into my life out of the blue twice," he said quietly, his voice a gentle rumble at her back. "I don't know what sent you into that bar either time or why you singled me out. I can only be grateful that you did. And I can't resent anything that led up to you walking though that door. Every event brought you one step closer to me."

Warmth flooded her, overflowing her in a way she'd never thought possible. "I love you, Jack." This time it was the easiest thing in the world to say.

"I love you too, Faith."

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More Notes: There is a full adult version of Part 9 available. I tried cutting a lot of this "clean" version out and it simply killed the scene. So between Lynette and I, we toned it down even more and then had a good friend's teenage daughter read it over. After she gave her age-stamp of approval, we went with it. If you would like the full adult version, please email me at elerimc gmail . com (remove all spaces). Please include an age statement of some sort when requesting so I don't have to feel guilty in sending it out. (vbg)

Once again, thanks for reading!!!

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TBC  



	10. Chapter 10

See Part 1 for full disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: Well, this is the penultimate chapter. I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful comments and encouragement throughout this fic. I've had a blast writing it and corresponding with each of you. Once again huge thanks go to Lynette. I'd left a huge, gaping hole in the plot and she picked it out in her usual no nonsense way. (vbg) You're awesome! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 10

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Friday evening's sunset hit in a burst of color, the sky above the mountains exploding with shades of orange, pink and blue. Faith watched the light display silently from her seat on the roof of the house, knees curled up against her chest. Never in her life had she imagined she could ever feel so content. The night before she'd held off sleep as long as she could, afraid the past week would disappear the moment she opened her eyes. But instead she'd woken to Jack's lips tickling their way up her neck, sending drowsy shivers down her spine.

Her eyes closed for a moment, her body sending a gentle wave of sensation through her gut as the memory of their early morning lovemaking flowed over her. It had been just as intense as Thursday night, but faster, more frantic. Apparently, there were variations to their life she was really going to enjoy learning. Although she'd had a brief moment of panic Friday morning when she realized they hadn't used any sort of protection either time. Her desire for Jack had overwhelmed her, causing a carelessness on her part she'd never imagined could exist in her life. She'd searched the bathroom for birth control pills and failing to find any, she'd carefully approached Jack with her concern. He hadn't laughed at her fears, simply assuring her it wasn't an issue since they'd both agreed long ago she would remain on the birth control shot.

Now, up on the roof, she hugged her knees a little closer. The idea of having children absolutely petrified her. And yet the idea of marriage, while not in quite the same manner, had also been foreign to her a week ago. Staring hard into the dying light, she forced the thoughts out of her head. If the time ever came, they'd discuss it, she and Jack, and decide what would be the best for them both. Of that, she had no doubts.

All too soon, the light display was over. Climbing to her feet, Faith headed back down the ladder and into the house. She checked the clock over the stove again, a frown furrowing her forehead. Jack was late. Later than the late he'd said he was going to be when he called a few hours ago. Had another situation popped up? One that was going to keep him overnight again? Glancing at the covered saucepan on the burner, she sighed. Thank God spaghetti sauce was easy to reheat. Her meager cooking skills weren't up to trying to save, or even make for that matter, anything more difficult. And she'd planned on cooking the pasta when he got home anyway.

The sound of tires crunching over the concrete of the driveway caught her ears, the distinctive diesel rumble of Jack's truck bringing a smile to her face. He was home. Feeling slightly self-conscious by her sudden onslaught of girliness, she flipped on the faucet to start filling the large pot waiting on the counter. By the time the door closed, she had it filled and sitting on the burner. She wiped her hands quickly and headed over to meet him.

Her welcoming smile vanished as soon as she saw him. "What's wrong?" He was pale, his face washed out against the green of his uniform.

He didn't answer, didn't even stop moving as he headed straight toward her. Strong arms that were usually rock steady shook as they wrapped around her back and held tight. Her lungs actually stopped working for a split second as alarms began ringing in her head. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, breathing deeply.

"Jack?" she asked, voice shaking. "Jack, what's wrong? Are you okay?" The arms she'd wrapped around him automatically drew him closer. His entire body was trembling and if she was totally honest with herself, it was freaking her out. Slayers, vampires, concussions and strange energy fields hadn't forced him to miss a stride. What could have upset him so badly? About to ask one more time, she froze when he spoke, not lifting his head, his voice strained and far too quiet.

"We lost two today."

She didn't need anything else as comprehension flooded her. Unconsciously, her hands rubbed over his back, long, slow soothing strokes. There was nothing she could say to make it better, but she had to try. "I'm so sorry." A shudder wracked his body at the words and all she could do was hold on as he quietly fell apart in her arms. She knew what it was like to lose people she'd worked with, people she'd grudgingly come to care for. Even Anya's death, as annoying as the vengeance demon had been, had marked a part of Faith's soul, another tally to add to the collection of losses in her life. Knowing how deeply Jack felt about his command and the people who worked for him, she ached for the man who'd had to conceal just how devastated he'd been while being strong for those under him.

When he finally stepped back, she had no idea how much time had passed. Jack had a little color back in his face, the tremors quieted to only a slight unsteadiness. He laid one hand over her cheek and brought up a smile that didn't quite make it onto his face. "I didn't think I'd ever get back here to you."

"Why didn't you call me?" she asked quietly, warmth filling her at his words.

"Just not the same thing."

Reaching up, she kissed the corner of his mouth. "The shoulders aren't very wide, but they're really strong if you want to talk." She hesitated for a second, a sudden doubt at the offer filling her. "If you can talk about it."

He gathered her back into his arms, his sigh more felt than heard. "Thanks. I think I'd like that."

The rest of the evening Faith said very little, merely listened as Jack talked about the two airmen that had been killed. He didn't go into details about how they they'd died or how in a research facility hundreds of feet below the Earth's surface they'd managed to get injured in the first place. Instead, he spoke of practical jokes played out on the entire facility so outrageous no one could credit the quiet young lieutenant with the gumption to pull off. He spoke of courage in the face of a senior officer who was in the wrong and didn't want to hear it from a mere captain. Personal stories and second- and third-hand anecdotes filled the time as Faith quietly heated the spaghetti and placed a plate in front of Jack who ate without seeming to realize what he was doing. Pleased he managed to finish at least a small portion of the food, she cleaned up while the words continued to pour out of him. She smiled and nodded and laughed as he talked, knowing the simple act of remembering the better times would help him more than anything she could ever say in return.

Later, after the dishes were cleared and the house was locked up tight, they lay cuddled together in the darkness of their room. Jack's voice had grown quieter as the evening had progressed, the initial shock of loss muting to a resigned acceptance. Gripping his hand in hers, she rested their entwined fingers on his chest above his heart. "Thank you for sharing them with me."

"Thank you for listening to me babble," he said, the soft words lacking any sting whatsoever. His lips pressed against her forehead for a long moment before he settled a little more firmly into the mattress. Soon, much sooner than she would have thought possible, his breathing eased into the steady rhythm of sleep, his heart beating comfortably under her hand.

So this was the married life. At least hers, anyway. Not perfect and there were still so many unanswered questions she had no intention of leaving forgotten. But she couldn't have dreamt up a more suitable mate for her unusual life. With a contented sigh, she allowed her eyes to close and drifted off to sleep.

And woke what seemed to be seconds later walking down a street at night.

Faith froze instantly, momentum and her muscles fighting for superiority. Looking around frantically, she took in the streetlight, the dark splatters on her clothes and the advertisements covering one window of a nearby shop. She was back in Cleveland, back to the last moment she remembered before waking in Jack's bed, their bed.

No. It wasn't possible. It hadn't been a dream. There was no way the last week, the most perfect, important week of her life, could have been a dream.

"No!"

The shout rang in her ears, echoing off the buildings on both sides of the street. She couldn't breathe, couldn't so much as twitch a single finger. Her heart crumpled in her chest, a gaping hole taking up residence in its place. What happened? How had she ended up back in Cleveland? Where was Jack?

She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until a voice answered her from a few feet away. "I may be able to help you with that." Head twisting instinctively toward the voice, she blinked quickly, positive her eyes were playing tricks on her. Whistler hadn't shown himself in years and yet the obnoxious suit and dorky hat were undeniable. "It seems I'm the demon with all the answers."

Before thought even processed, Faith found herself gripping the demon's loudly colored lapels in both fists and shoving him up against the rough wall of the closest building. If the little toady was involved that meant the Powers That Be were involved up to their incorporeal necks. She had a thing against beings who claimed to be on the good side and yet never could be bothered to get their hands dirty in the fight.

Feet dangling off the ground, Whistler looked down at her with wide, rattled eyes. "No need to inflict damage," he choked out roughly, hands tapping carefully on her fists. "Let's just relax and be sociable. I'm here to explain everything."

She wasn't in the mood for sociable. She was in the mood to tear something to pieces. Her chest ached, throbbed with a pain she had no name for. She only knew it was an awful, choking feeling, one she'd never felt before. "Explain what? What the hell is this, huh? Just another way to screw with Faith's life? I haven't given the Powers enough of a laugh over the years? How dare you give me this perfect fairytale in a dream and then yank it out from under me just as I'm getting used to the idea of actually having a life!" The words exploded from deep inside, angry, scared and full of a towering loss. There was nothing he could possibly say to alleviate the anguish she felt.

"It wasn't a dream, Faith. Look at your arm."

Seething inside and out, she glared into the demon's eyes, his words not even registering in her brain. Not so idly, she wondered what would happen to her if she decided to carry out B's long ago threat.

"Look at your arm," he repeated slowly, barely making a dent in the haze clouding her mind. He pointed with one hand, eyes following the gesture.

She snarled at him wordlessly, fury digging further into every cell. He was beyond dead. He was completely. . . Telling the truth.

On her right arm was the healed cut Jack had noticed two days before. Sleeve pushed up by her raised arms, the laceration was a faint red mark, a tiny hint of yellow the only other sign of its presence, both of which she knew would be gone within another day. Her hands loosened, letting Whistler slide inelegantly down the wall. She took a small step back, still close enough to grab him again if she didn't like the answers he gave her. "It wasn't a dream?"

"No. You were really there."

"But I thought there was no way to send someone forward in time. Willow and Giles were sure of it."

"They don't have access to the information I do."

As an explanation, Whistler's words did little to clear her confusion. Faith's frown tugged her eyebrows tighter together, a headache already forming behind her eyes from all the dots that weren't connecting again. "I got this in the future." She gestured toward the wound absently. "But I'm back in my time now, right? How do I have a cut on my arm that won't happen for three years?"

"When you're dealing with the Powers I'd never use the word impossible."

She lunged forward, grasping his lapels again and getting right up in his face. "Quit playing around. Tell me straight with small words."

"What do you know about time paradoxes?" At her blank look, he nodded as if he'd expected her reaction. She tightened her grip slightly, bringing the collar even farther up his neck. Swallowing visibly, he glanced meaningfully down at her fists. She let him go with a light shove as a warning. "Classic time paradox: if a man goes back in time and kills his grandfather before his father is conceived, can he ever exist in the first place? The problems time travel can create are immense. That's one reason it takes so much power to even attempt it. Anyone messing with time has to have enough power to compensate for the inconsistencies that crop up."

"How does that explain the cut?" There was no way she was going to be able to wrap her brain around the snarled mess he'd just tossed out.

Whistler sighed, straightening his jacket. "The Powers knew you'd need some kind of proof that it had all been real. They took the injury from your future self and put it on you here, in this time. The power to compensate and all that."

"Okay, they left some evidence behind, like bread crumbs. That makes sense, I guess. But why now? Tell me that. The Sunnydale Hellmouth has been closed for two years. Why wait all this time to do something?" The hole in her chest fluttered slightly, hope struggling in vain to overcome the weight keeping it pressed down.

"Neither of you were ready." He picked up the stupid bowler hat, dusting it off carefully with one hand. "In its own way, Jack's life has been harder than yours. Right now, in this time, he doesn't believe in happily ever after. Neither did you."

"That still doesn't explain-"

"Stop pretending to be so dense and use your brain for once."

Her fist reached out and connected with his jaw without thought. She stared down at him sprawled on the concrete and couldn't drum up the willingness to feel the slightest bit guilty. She'd been dropped into a future she'd had no clue how to handle, yanked back out just as she was adjusting and now this little toady presumed to insult her.

"Enough with the violence already," he groaned as he climbed slowly to his feet, eyes watching her suspiciously as he picked the hat up once again. "Think about it, Faith. Would you ever have gone back to see him? Would you have given him a chance? To see if he could handle the truth?"

Her silence answered louder than words ever could. Hell, no, she wouldn't have gone to Colorado Springs. There had never been a reason to return. Until now. "So how did I end up in Colorado? What made me decide to go back?" The headache was beginning to throb through her entire head.

"Paradox. It doesn't matter anymore. Just like the man who goes back to kill his grandfather. You've already done it. That's all that's important."

Faith paced away a couple of small steps, squeezing the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to help it all make sense. The action did nothing but increase the pressure behind her eyes. Dropping her hand, she stared across the short distance to the demon.

Whistler wasn't done yet. His voice dropped slightly, eyes softening in a way that told her she wasn't going to like what he had to say. "When Buffy didn't stay dead all those years ago, something got messed up. Something the Powers never could have foreseen." She wanted to look away, to escape his serious gaze, but she couldn't. He held her spellbound by his words alone. "Kendra wasn't the only one who was supposed to die. You weren't meant to survive either. Neither was your successor nor hers. Until the kid wasn't on this Earth any longer the new Slayer, the proper Slayer, would keep dying fast and hard until the balance was restored. So the Powers made a deal. You, for the future of the Slayer line."

It took her three tries to get the words to form, her pulse echoing through her chest. "Are you saying they used me as a bargaining chip? They gave away my life?"

"You catch on quick, kid. It's not every day a Slayer starts working for the bad guys, you know. They allowed it to happen." He paused for a moment, seeming to understand she was having trouble accepting his words. "But you weren't the only surprise for the Powers. Jack was supposed to be dead seven years ago. You two just don't know when to give in."

"What changed?" She ignored the reference to Jack's mortality for the moment, too filled with a trembling hope and shaky fear to do more than try to process what the demon was telling her. "The Powers didn't just decide to pay up for all the hell they put me through."

"Actually, they did. When the witch called all the potentials the Slayer line was secured for all time. The deal was off. Jack was the only way they could even try to make it up to you. And to him. But you guys are a lot more stubborn than they give you credit for. You ignored every tiny push, every subtle suggestion. They decided it was time for a drastic measure."

"They sent me three years into the future."

"Bingo. That way all the preliminaries were out of the way. Classic paradox."

"But I'm back here in my time. What kind of a messed up joke is that?"

"And just when are you supposed to come back into Jack's life?"

Mouth open to ask how the hell was she to know, the words stopped before air cleared her lungs. Three years. It had been there in front of her all along. Heart suddenly pounding a furious beat against her chest, she turned and ran without saying a word.

"I knew you'd figure it out. Enjoy your life, kid."

The quiet words followed her, pushed her even faster. Everything might not be lost after all.

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TBC

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	11. Chapter 11

See Part 1 for full disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: And so, dear readers, we come to the end. Of this tale, at least. My deepest thanks to everyone for their wonderful words of encouragement throughout the writing and posting of this fic. Without you all, what would be the point? A final hug and one last word of thanks to Lynette for all her hard work. Don't shake your head at me. (vbg) As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

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Part 11

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Faith stared at the door in front of her. There was no demon behind it that she knew of and no torture device sitting lying in wait for the Slayer. Even with those facts loud in her brain, she hesitated. She knew his last name now. Hell, she even knew where he lived. She could have just showed up on his doorstep, but Jack was a suspicious person by nature. If a woman he'd met once years ago knocked at his house it would not be a pretty thing. 

So she went with Plan B. Except now that she was actually at the bar, she was so nervous her keys jingled in her hand. What if he said no again? What if he just up and left? What if. . .

No more what ifs, she told herself sharply. Are you a Slayer or a whiny little girl who's too afraid to live? Shoving the keys deep into her jeans pocket, she pushed open the door. The day she refused to face a challenge was the day she should be buried.

Making her way into the bar, Faith scanned the busy crowd with the ease of long practice. Just the normal Friday night hang out people in attendance, not a demon or vampire in sight. She paid for two beers and took a sip from one, the second bottle chilling her hand. Ignoring the appreciative looks she was getting from the two frat boys on the stools next to her, she kept looking. He was in here somewhere.

On the drive from Cleveland, she'd thought long and hard about the week she'd spent with Jack in the future and had come to one solid conclusion. Willow had told her time was fluid and the future was constantly changing based on a person's actions and decisions at any given time. The future where she'd never told Jack about being the Slayer hadn't happened yet. Now she knew what his reaction would be. He wouldn't think she was crazy, wouldn't run shrieking in the other direction. She didn't have to wait three years to tell him.

And seven people might not lose their lives because of her.

She didn't have to tell him right away, but he'd hit on something that had bothered her the entire time she'd been back in Cleveland. Being the Slayer was an integral part of who she was and she'd refused to let Jack into that part of her. This time she was holding nothing back.

Just as frat boy number one decided to make his move, she saw him. Jack. He'd taken a table in the corner, a beer on the table in front of him, one foot resting on a second chair. The large TV suspended from the ceiling was showing a hockey match and his eyes followed the action with an intent gleam she'd come to recognize. Stepping away from the bar, the two beers in hand, she made her way through the crowd, her anxiety suddenly doubled.

"Can I buy you a beer?"

He looked up at the words, his smile hovering between confused and friendly. "Thanks, but. . ." He trailed off, a frown taking over his features.

She knew the instant he figured out who she was. His face cleared, the smile returning in full force. Damn, he looked good. The hair had the smallest touch of brown left, the lines of his face not quite so deep. But all she focused on was the warmth spilling from his eyes.

"But I think I'm a little too old for you," he finished, waving her into the seat opposite his. Jack's eyes shone with pleasure. She could only hope it was from her presence.

"You're not old. You're the perfect age for me."

He snorted and lifted his beer in a small salute at her compliment. "Thanks, but I do own a mirror."

She didn't say a word, letting her eyes speak for her.

Shifting slightly, Jack sat forward, face growing serious. "How've you been, Faith?"

A warm glow of happiness spread through her chest. He really did remember her. Her name, not just a recognized face from years ago. And yet how did she sum up the last six years of her life? Including the past week she'd spent with his future self? "Now that I'm here? Couldn't be better." His face gained a touch of confusion colored with concern at the relief in her voice, but she plowed on before he could turn that look into words. "The last time I was here, Jack, I asked you out."

"You didn't ask me out," he corrected gently, taking a sip of his beer. "You asked me to sleep with you."

She just managed to keep the blush from taking over her whole face. What a brazen little girl she'd been, thinking any man, no matter what age and experience, would get down on his knees and thank his lucky stars she'd deigned to make an offer. But she'd lived since then and lived hard. And she knew she needed the man sitting across the table to be in her life. The trip from Cleveland to Colorado Springs had been torture without him, her entire body actually aching from missing his presence.

"And you turned me down."

"You were seventeen, Faith."

"I'm not saying you were wrong," she interrupted before he could get offended. "But I'm not seventeen anymore." The implied question hung between them, thick as the shadows that had been the focus of her life for far too long.

He leaned back in the chair, beer coming up once again for a stalling sip. "I'm not exactly in your age group."

That hadn't been a 'no'. She smiled and slid the extra beer across the table at him. "Men in my age group are worthless." Jack's eyes flew from the bottle he'd grabbed automatically to her never-been-more-serious-in-her-life eyes. "And I'm not leaving until I get the answer I want."

He searched long and hard in her face, as if trying to decide what kind of game she was playing. She forced the nervousness down, refused to let it show, only allowing the confidence of her decision to come through. Knowing him as she did, she knew a million thoughts were clamoring over each other to be heard in his very quick brain, most of them surrounding his job he couldn't tell her about and her sudden reappearance in his life. The silence went on so long, she was starting to wonder if she'd screwed it all up when he picked up the beer she'd bought. Transferring his attention to its label, he gave it a cursory read over.

Meeting her eyes solidly, he tipped the bottle against his lips, taking a long swallow. "Why don't we start with dinner."

Every bit of tension disappeared as a smile took over her face. Her heart thumped heavy in her chest, sending tingles down her limbs. The future wasn't set in stone. They had all the time in the world to get back to the feelings she'd only just learned were possible. For once, she'd done something right.

"Dinner sounds perfect."

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The Beginning . . .

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Final Author's Note: I had such a great time writing Jack and Faith together that I couldn't let them go after only one story. A sequel is in the works, okay, more like ficlet sequels actually. So stop on by every now and then to see if any more of their story is ready to be told. 

Once again, thank you for reading!

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